Cold Comfort Mountain
by SpaceAnJL
Summary: FINISHED! And with a doublesize chapter to make up for the wait.
1. Chapter 1

_Usual disclaimers apply._

_The first time I saw a list of planets in the 'Verse, one just leapt out at me as Jayne's homeworld. Then I read the shooting script for 'The Message', and his letter from home. So, I present to you - Jayne Cobb. The man. The myth. The mother. With apologies to the State of Georgia and the estate of Johnny Cash._

Cold Comfort Mountain : Prologue

"'Verse holds a deal of planets. Some of 'em's dirt poor, and look it. Deadwood...well, it don't look like much. Ain't farmin' country. But the dirt ain't poor. It's rich - enough iron in it to make the rivers run red as blood come the rains. So, folks came an' dug the ground up, took it and burnt it and smacked it about some, hauled it into orbit and built ships with it.

Mines closed afore I was born. Some was worked out. Others started fallin' in and taking towns with 'em. Less'n they wanted the whole planet disappearing up it's own _pi gu_, they hadta stop digging. But the Marietta shipyards kept on. Mostly, it's refitting, now. Fancy-ass cruisers, past their best, gettin' tricked out for colony ships. Towin' junkers in from the scrap belt and stripping 'em for parts.

Most everybody works for 'em. Deadwood ain't just a Company town, it's a Company planet. There's still work for a man ain't afraid to get his hands dirty. But it don't pay so well. An' when you got kin as is sick and hungry, well, you go an' do what you can for 'em.

Ain't got much in the way of schoolin'. Never saw the point past my letters and reckoning my pay. Weren't gonna sit in a room while some uppity _san ba_ told me I weren't gonna amount to nothin' if I din't know my times table. Not when there was the woods and mountains a skiff-ride away. Where a man could breathe free. An' catch himself some dinner. Most folks hunt to eat, an' I got real good at it. Fifteen, an' Pa took me to the Yards with him, taught me to weld. An' that's where I got my tattoo. 'Arcies' , welders and cutters, we all got the dragon.

Seventeen, I first got to hack the Black. Kinda weird, seein' my own world spinnin' under my feet. Got a place on one of the haulin' crews out on the scrap belt. An' I fell in with some folks there had a deal more money that I had ever seen.

Always did like fightin'. I was gettin' a taste for liquor and cards. An' women. Ma wanted me to stay home an' marry my cousin Loretta. Pa wanted me to work my way up to shift leader some day. But I wanted to have me some fun.

Took me near twenty years to get my head outta my ass..."

0000

Third time the com beeps, Mal's voice snaps irritably.

"_Jayne, get your damn butt up on the bridge."_

"Can't it wait, Captain? I'm washin' my wife."

There is a short, possibly horrified, pause.

"_No, it can't." _Another pause. _"An' ask the cook if we can have those red bean dumplings for supper."_

"Cheeky sod." Ilargia Cobb looks at her husband through half-closed eyes, squeezes a last sponge of water at the base of her throat. "Dumplings, huh?"

Jayne gives a lecherous grin, and makes a grab. She slithers out of reach, grabs up her shirt.

"Best go see what the Captain wants."

"He's just cranky 'cos he's not gettin' any." Regretfully, he swings up the ladder. "You keep some of them dumplings warm for me, now."

Makes a big play of adjusting his fly as he steps up, 'cos it always gets Mal annoyed. Then, everything gets Mal annoyed these days. River turns over the back of her seat and gives him a grin. She's braided her hair back like Larji's today, an' it makes her look a lot less nuts.

"Don't tease the Captain. My job."

"Thought we was takin' turns."

"Hello? The Captain is here." Mal waves his hands for attention, and they both grin at him, which is all kinds of unsettling. "Got ourselves a wave from Bernoulli, askin' if we can take a salvage job out from the far end of the quadrant, an' it ain't territory I'm familiar with. You know it?"

Jayne squints at the screen. There's a short pause.

"I know it." Looks across at Mal. "We're gonna be hauling up by the scrap belt?"

"You got a problem with that?" Mal has visions of lynch mobs, or worse, fan clubs.

"Huh? Oh, no, ain't that, Mal." Shifts his weight nervously. "It's just...can we make a stop?"

"What? Where? Why?"

"Here." Big finger points. Mal squints at the screen.

"Deadwood. What'n hell's on that rock?"

"My folks."


	2. Chapter 2

Mal blinks at him. They all know Jayne's got kin. He just ain't ever talked overmuch about them, or his homeworld. 'Cept for Gia, and mayhap Kaylee, ain't nobody too keen to be knowing.

"You ain't been home in a while, I'm thinking?"

"Had no call to..." Gives Mal a sideways look. "Folks like Ferlinghetti an' Hessian, you wouldn't want 'em knowing where your kin lived."

Mal takes this as the compliment Jayne intends it to be.

"We're going to need to fuel, get our bearings...can we refuel on Deadwood?"

"Hell, yeah. Shipyards is always hungry for business. This mean I can get some leave?"

Mal thinks on it a moment. He can't ever go home. Ain't nothing to go home to. Same for Zoe. The Tams' kin - well, they don't rate none. Kaylee misses her folks, but they don't go by her world too often.

"I'll see what we can swing." He grins. "Reckon your Ma will be real interested to meet Gia."

"Reckon so, too." Jayne brightens. "Wrote and told 'em about her."

Zoe, Kaylee and Simon step up onto the bridge.

"Gia says, and I quote, sir, 'you're getting your gorram dumplings, but I want extra budget for the groceries, because you're all going to get scurvy unless you see some proper fruit this side of Christmas.'"

"Which I must second as a medical man."

"This job pays off, we'll all be eating strawberries." Mal grins at Kaylee. "Now, job seems simple enough. There's a ship done crashed out there, and we got the salvage..."

Jayne, who has been looking at the screen, interrupts.

"Crashed where, Mal?"

"Got a beacon trace to follow..."

He punches it up, and Jayne swears.

"_Ta ma de_! There's a gorram reason we got the salvage..."

The ore drone has parked itself in an asteroid. The Junk Belt is aptly named. A shifting, unstable band of rock and rubbish, dense enough to attract unwary ships in. Especially if they are flown by a simple computer brain, or something even dumber, like a cheap pilot, strung out on rotgut. Jayne expresses this, with more invective.

"...Gonna be flying into a rutting mincer. You'd hafta be some kinda crazy to try it."

A hand pops up over the back of the pilot's seat and waves at him. Mal, all kinds of tweaked, and getting madder by the minute, glares.

"Now, you done told me that there wasn't a problem."

"Not a problem. Wash or Tiy could have done it."

"And that means you can?"

"Yes." She tilts a glance at him. "Know about the Belt, too. Chews ships up unless they have a real hotshot behind the wheel..." Grins at him. "Now, isn't it lucky that you have me?"

Jayne steps back. This could be shapin' into a proper domestic. Some reason, Cap'n seems to have quietly stowed the idea of hiring another pilot, and they got kinda used to the li'l one in the chair. But they ain't done a run that's any sorta stretch yet, an' he's worked the Belt - it ain't somewhere to be learning. Nobody wants his two credits' worth, when they're shapin' up like that, so he goes to find Larji. Reckons that Mal, Zoe an' the Doc will be weighin' in against River, an' Kaylee won't want bits knocked off _Serenity._ Still reckons River's gonna win out.

0000

"I'm going to be meeting your mother?" Ilargia blinks, stops spooning the bean paste out.

"I just want you to see where I'm from. Meet my folks. Have 'em meet you." Jayne looks up, half-shy. "Show 'em I done something right in my life."

"Well, I've not got much to pack." She looks nervous. "I hope they like me."

"They will. My two best girls. It'll be shiny."

Ilargia, who has a bad experience of mothers-in-law, refrains from comment. He looks so excited, that she doesn't want to squash him.

0000

Town had another name once, but now, it's just Marietta, after the Yards, which loom over the houses, a bristling skyline of cranes and carcases, vast aerodromes and launch cradles. Sky itself has an ever changing pattern of stars over the town, red and green and the flare of rockets. One of the spinning lights drops down into the purple evening - the shuttle bringing the 'dayshift' home. (In space, there is no day or night, but men work better when they have sun and air and the comfort of families.)

End of the day, and the klaxon blares for shift change. Gates open, and a slew of men head homeward.

"Cobb!"

One of the men turns back at the shout.

"You wantin' me, Lyall?"

"Got some post in." Lyall Whitfield, the foreman, holds out an envelope, which was probably once white. Both men regard it. Blocky print simply says 'Mr & Mrs Cobb, Marietta, Deadwood.' "You know someone off planet?"

"My eldest son." Mingled pride and anger in the voice.

"Oh." Looks at the envelope again. "Boy was a fine welder, as I remember. What's he doing now?"

"Dunno what he's doin'. Breaking his mother's heart by not coming home." Ray Cobb scowls at the paper. "Best get this back, so as Carrie can read it out."

0000

"Married! Not a letter for months, and then he ups and tells us he's married. He'll have got himself snared up by some painted trollop, I know it. She ain't even from our Church, Ray."

"She ain't even from our planet, by the sound of it. Now calm yourself down, Carrie."

Jayne's mother - the kind of woman who looked forty at twenty-five, but still looks much the same the far side of sixty. Hair drawn back in a tight bun, indeterminate between brown and grey, hands that show every day of toil in a hard world. A tidy, upright, ferocious little figure.

"I ain't gonna be calm." She reads a little more. "From the Core! She's gonna be all mimsy ways, push a button an' eat out of packets." Carrie slaps the letter down, glares at it. A simple, rounded handwriting, learnt in childhood and never used enough to change. "Boy's spent his whole life in trouble. Don't you be telling me he's changed that by picking up some...high-toned piece. What she want with the likes of him anyhow?"

Ray reaches out a large hand, scoops the letter away. Carrie had only read past the 'Dear Ma,' before she started in, and he'd quite like the news without the commentary.

"'Dear Ma. Here are some credits for you. I have got myself wed. Her name is Larji and you will like her fine. I do. She is from - (a series of scribbles, and another, more elegant, hand 'Londinium') - I hope that Mattie is better and that Pa still has work. Your son, Jayne.'" He spreads the paper with his fingers, stares at it. "Gorram. Londinium."

Carrie prims up her mouth.

"Nasty godless place, all lighting them smelly sticks in front of fat idols." Fingers dab at a small crucifix round her neck. "I don't like the way they smirk all the time, like they know something nasty."

"'Bout time he settled down, though..." Ray bites his tongue, but not quickly enough. His wife is on that like a shot.

"'Bout time he came home and lived respectable. Got himself a real job..." Her turn to stop short, as Ray's face darkens.

"Precious little work for a man here. They pulled in some more broken engines all the way from over the edge of the Burnham quadrant, and that'll see us to next month, but don't you be waiting for the days of plenty, Carrie." Flicks the credits that lie disregarded half out of the envelope. "Wages of sin are what keeps the wolf from our door, an' if I could do without 'em, we would. But we got two sons, an' physic don't come cheap."

"I wasn't meaning..." She puts her arms round her husband's neck. "I worry about him, Ray."

"I know, darlin'." His large hand covers both of hers. "I worry, too. But he's grown, now, an' has his own way to make."

0000

Mal stomps into the dining room, sits at the table. It doesn't even take River's calm, yet somehow smug, face to let them know.

"We're gonna be setting down on Deadwood day after tomorrow. Jayne, you can borrow a shuttle, an' I'll wave you when we're good to go. Got a pilot reckons she can catch that rock, but we're gonna need some plannin' and some fuel for it. An' some extra shielding. Zoe, you an' me are gonna be sorting the external welding, Kaylee and the hotshot will be tweaking the engine."

"What about me?" Simon asks, tentatively. Mal looks even more sour.

"With Gia away, someone has to do the cookin'."

Everyone looks a little stricken. Ilargia pats Simon's shoulder.

"I'll prep a few things, leave them in the cooler for you."

0000

Zoe comes across Ilargia, waiting by the shuttle with her one small bag. Woman looks uncommon nervous.

"You doing okay?"

"Meeting a mother in law is a little daunting."

"I'm hearing you." Still pains her a little, but she and Gia have talked some on the subject. "Wash's momma threw a blue fit 'bout me, but I can't see why Jayne's folks wouldn't take to you. I mean, even the Captain likes you."

"Well, thank you." Ilargia grins back. "Why didn't Wash's mother like you?"

"Rebel soldier girl. Man was a genius pilot - strap wings to a brick and he'd put it in orbit - coulda had a real career, flying a cruiser and living soft."

"But he chose you. Flying free." She looks out over the cargo bay. "Esteban's mother hated me. I dragged his nice clean career in the dirt. Cost him promotion."

"For real?"

"Can't be sure. May have been so. I don't do corporate very well."

"Don't think that's gonna be an issue here." She's curious, actually. "Jayne hasn't ever talked much about his folks."

"I don't think anyone ever asked him." She spies him coming down the stairs. His kitbag is nearly as big as she is. "Are you taking all your guns, dear?"

"Can't leave Vera behind. Don't trust Mal not to run off with her." He grins at Zoe. "You enjoy the Doc's cookin', now. We're off to get some real homestyle kwizeen."

"Gia, take your husband away before I shoot him."

"We're going." She shoves the still grinning Jayne in through the door, looks back. "Wish me luck."

0000

Jayne takes a moment to look about the control panel. There's a small velociraptor perched amongst the buttons. He grins. He knows which hand put that there. Makes Larji laugh, too, which is good. She's been kinda quiet the last day. He's nervy, too.

"I ain't been home for...getting on nine years, now. Gorram." He grins at her. "Reckon they'll be all kinds of surprised to see me."

She looks at him in horror.

"You didn't let them know we were coming?"

"They ain't got a terminal to wave to, and we ain't been past a post station." The grin wavers. "Still reckon Ma will be pleased. You ain't afraid to take potluck, are you?"

"No." This is going to be good. Nine years absence, and then 'hello, this is my wife.' But it's too late to turn back now. Jayne's got the shuttle release sequence going.

0000

They land in a dusty little field, at the edge of the town. Jayne scuffs a toe in the dirt.

"Ain't had much rain. Gonna make the pitch a little mite hard for runnin'."

"Pitch?"

"We're on the edge o' the school outfield." He grins, hefts his bag. "Used to play ball out here. We only gotta walk down the street."

It's a proper street, too, hard-packed dirt, but with sidewalks and neat paling fences in front of clapboard houses. The buildings are low, upper storey set back over a roof that slopes to a wide porch. A sudden blart of sound makes Ilargia jump. Jayne's head lifts.

"Gorram, been while since I heard that."

"What does it mean?"

"In about a handful of time, this street is gonna be full of hungry men heading home." He sniffs happily. "Someone's got a chicken fryin'."

This place is drier, warmer than Hecate, or even her own hometown. But despite the rustic quality, it's an established place, a proper town, not a frontier settlement. Her big bad husband grew up in a suburb.

It's not what she was expecting, and she says so. Jayne grins.

"I was born in the company hospital, grew up in the town here. Mal's the country boy." Looks out over the roofs and chimneys. "Weekends, me and Pa used to take off for the hills, though. Couple of rifles and rods, and a few fixings. Nothing to beat frying up fresh fish for breakfast."

Ilargia starts to look a little worried; much as she loves her husband, camping out does not appeal.

The house they stop at is no different from any of the others. Perhaps a little neater than some, clean whitewash on the weathered boards, and the yard swept clean. Jayne has his hand on the gate, when there is a shout from behind him.

Ilargia sees - Jayne in thirty years. A grey, gaunt man, weathered and worn by time until there's the fierce ghost of strength left. But the same wolfish line to the jaw, and the seamed face holds the same blue eyes.

Ray Cobb and his son eye each other.

"Huh. Turnin' up like some bad penny."

"Can always take ourselves off again."

"The hell you will." And suddenly, they are in a bone-crushing hug, slapping backs. "Gorram, boy, your mother is gonna take your hide for surprising her."

"I know it. Pa, you gotta..."

There's a whoop from the porch, then, and a thunder of feet.

Ilargia was going to wait politely to be introduced, but that plan is rather scuppered by Mattie. He couldn't be anyone else. Fair haired, but the same bullet head and small ears, same pointed nose and wide grin. Clean shaven, shows a cleft in his chin that Ilargia knows Jayne has, too. Smaller than his brother, but that's relative; he's still large enough to swing her off her feet without trouble, plant a big kiss of welcome on her.

"Bin wantin' to meet the woman crazy enough to marry my big bro'."

"You put my wife down, you..."

They punch each other, boys again, wrestling, laughing, until Mattie breaks off, in a hectic coughing fit. Jayne catches him.

"You still sick?"

"Just a moment to catch my breath. M'fine."

"You ain't."

"I got medicine. M'getting there." Pushes Jayne away. "Don't you be fussin' me." Eyes his brother. "Gorram, ain't you the big, tough one."

"Jayne Cobb!"

Yeah, really big and tough. Jayne runs, actually picks his mother up off the ground, as she flies at him, half laughing, half crying. Stems the reproaches and endearments, by setting her down firmly, and saying,

"Ma, I want you to meet my Larji."

Ilargia quails a little. That hard blue stare is extremely familiar. Finds her voice, and extends a hand.

"It's very nice to finally meet you, Mrs Cobb."

Carrie Cobb stares at her new daughter in law. She's not painted or showy. She is wearing trousers, but she looks neat, practical, a woman, not some slip of a girl. Eyes her waistline narrowly. Good wide hips. Wipes a hand on her apron, and shakes. Firm grip, no wilting flower. She sniffs, but unbends a little.

"Well, it's good to meet you, too. Would have been nice to know you was comin', but you'll have to take us as you find us."

Oh, this is going to be wacky fun. Ilargia follows the family up the path.


	3. Chapter 3

Carrie is put about something fierce. Be a shame to her if you couldn't eat your dinner off the stoop in the normal run of things, mind, but a body would like some warning for company. 'Stead of which, she's in her apron, and the best china is still in store. Sets off up the path at a clip, to at least get another place laid.

Ray falls in step with Jayne, murmurs,

"Now, don't you pay no mind to your mother. She's just fussin', 'cos you sprung it on us like you did." A sharp look. "She ain't expecting, is she?"

"No!" Jayne yelps with embarrassment. "We're being careful."

"Glad to be hearin' it."

"It happened all sudden like." Jayne gives a reminiscent grin. "We met, and it was fireworks all the way. Couldn't let her get away."

"Romantic foolin'. I courted your mother for near two years."

"Well, I ain't in a line of work offers time to spare." They don't talk about what he does; they suspect, and they don't approve, but 'Security Officer' sounds respectable. (It's on the ship's papers - Mal's wedding present.)

Behind them, Ilargia loses the struggle to carry her own bag. Mattie is determined.

"I'm real glad to meet ya, honest. An' I din't mean it about bein' crazy an' all. Jayne's the best brother."

"Well, I'm fond of him, too."

He grins at her, an expression she knows well on a different face. Only a few years between the brothers, but these blue eyes are far more innocent.

"Lemme show you where to get washed up..."

Up wooden stairs, the treads worn by generations of feet, the carpet runner faded by time and traffic. Of course, the little bathroom is spotless, too. Ilargia washes her hands in the basin, eyes her reflection in the mirror.

Flashback to another spotless house - never a home - and a cool voice saying, "Esteban tells me you studied history? Isn't that a rather...esoteric subject for the Service?" Shakes herself. No reason to think on that.

Jayne looks around, at a place at once strange and familiar. Feels large and out of place in it. Like he's going to leave dirt and blood on the surfaces. Kitbag looks even bigger in the corner of the hallway. Looks up the stairs, and smiles at his wife.

"Ma's fretting some about eating in the kitchen...told her you weren't one for side."

She takes the big hand held out to her, and he pulls her in for a sudden quick kiss.

"They ain't gonna eat you. Don't look so tragic."

"I just want them to like me."

"They will. I like you just fine."

Down the hall, and into the kitchen. Table set out with dinner, an' that was his mother's chicken he could smell. Nearly trips, by reachin' for a dish before grace, but catches himself when Ma raps his knuckles with a spoon.

Kitchen reminds Ilargia quite painfully of her lost home on Hecate. Same kind of stove. Table has a cloth on it, but she expects that it is well scrubbed beneath. Smell makes her mouth water. Fried chicken and cornbread. They haven't had real meat on board the ship since the illicit doves. Tastes as good as it smells, too.

"This is wonderful, Mrs Cobb."

A sharp look, to gauge sincerity.

"T'ain't much. Just fried chicken, is all."

"Mm. But there's...cinnamon in the flour? And rosemary?"

"Larji's the ship's cook, Ma." Jayne says, off her startled look. His father laughs, claps him on the shoulder.

"Gorram, boy! You sure know how to get your feet under the table."

"Ray!" Carrie is flustered. But Ilargia just smiles, says simply,

"He does take a lot of feeding."

"You eat well on your ship?" Mebbe she don't eat out of packets, then. 'Cos Jayne has always liked his food.

"Try to. Protein packs are all very well, but they don't compare to the real thing." She smiles. "Jayne hunts when he can."

"He was always a one for keeping the pot full." Carrie finds a smile back. "And emptying it, too."

"Oh, yes. One last _bao zi_ on a plate, and he'll all but wrestle the Captain for it."

"His manners is improving, then."

They both look at Jayne, who has his mouth full and a dawning expression of worry in his eyes. Mebbe letting his Ma and Larji talk weren't such a hot idea. Mattie snorts.

"He done stuck a fork in me over the last potato, one time."

"It was my potato."

"Weren't."

"This was near thirty years ago." Ray says dryly to Ilargia. "Cobbs ain't ones for layin' a grudge down easy. Can I help you to some more cornbread, there, afore they get at it?"

Carrie peers at Ilargia's hand as she reaches to take the plate.

"That's an interesting ring you got." A narrow band of copper, that catches the light in odd twists of blue and green. (The 'ring' had started life as something quite different, somewhere in the depths of _Serenity's_ workings. But Jayne had polished it up, and Ilargia wouldn't change it for diamonds.) "Where'd you get married?"

"On the ship." Jayne knows his Ma is brewing, seeks to assure her. "We done it legal and proper. Captain checked."

Carrie rounds on Mattie, cuffs his ear.

"You can stop sniggerin'. I know you bin out down the Painted Cat this month, so don't you be so smart."

Mattie's grin drops, becomes a look of alarm. Jayne smirks at him. Ilargia assumes that the Painted Cat is a place of ill-repute (it is) and resolves to interrogate her husband later.

She watches him with his family. She knows that she sees a different side of him to most anyway, but it's rather sweet to see him so happy.

A remorseless stream of family gossip washes over Jayne. He nods and grins and eats his dinner, and daren't catch Mattie's eye, though he can feel his brother ready to explode with laughter. Ma don't change.

Eyes have watched them walk up that road, and the gossip will be out. The Cobbs' eldest has come home. An' with a woman, too. Carrie will have something to say about that (don't she always?).

They make it halfway through the peach cobbler, before there is a knock at the screen door, and a neighbour, lookin' to borrow a cup of sugar. That is most surely Jayne Cobb, large as life. An' the little stranger, sittin' at the table like kin. Quick eyes search for clues. Dressed quite plain, (trousers!) but lovely manners. The eldest son brung home a wife? Well, now, where'd he get her?

She hurries off into the evening, just remembering the sugar. Carrie sniffs.

"That Marion Pike. She got her nose in everywhere. Be all round town by mornin' that we got company."

Ray, who knows full well that Carrie and Marion will happily spend two hours tearing the rest of the neighbourhood to bits over the fence, ignores this. Anyone else had a guest, it would be Carrie trottin' out with a jug and a beak on. She's just put about 'cos she wanted to be the one spreading the news.

0000

Carrie is putting the dishes in the sink, when Ray pulls Jayne's elbow gently.

"C'mon, son." Mattie's peering over his shoulder. "Friday night. We're goin' to the other hope and mainstay of our existence."

"Huh?"

"Down the bar, boy. Grab your coat. But quiet like, afore your mother remembers somethin' needs doing."

Old times. Jayne grins, hooks up his boots. Gonna give Ma and Larji some time to get acquainted.

Carrie's head snaps round when she hears the front door close, but they are already striding down the road apace. She fumes.

"That Ray! Runnin' out on company."

"Not just Ray." Ilargia is also cross. "It's a family affair."

They look at each other. And suddenly, it's too funny. Grown men picking up their boots and sneaking out for beer.

"I hope he don't just dump you down and go out and get sauced regular?"

"Oh no. He never drinks while he's working." This is true; for all his bluster, Jayne is cold sober when there is shooting to be done.

"Well, I'm thinking we'd best go sit in the parlour, and you can tell me all about yourself."

This is very much the thing Ilargia has been dreading. And yet, it's curiously comfortable to sit in the upright armchair, the scuffed leather warmed from unyielding polish to the softness as of old boots. Sipping a fragrant little bowl of tea, and talking about her favourite man with the other woman who loves him...

"So...you met him on the ship, this..._Serenity_?"

Ilargia blushes a little.

"He made rather an impression."

"I hope he minded his manners?"

"He was a perfect gentleman."

Carrie snorts.

"That'd be a first. He's been a sore torment all his life. Playing hookey, and fightin', even in kindergarten."

Ilargia imagines a small Jayne, grins.

"But I expect he was adorable."

"He was." Carries sighs, grins back. "A limb of Satan, but he had such big blue eyes, and the sweetest curls..."

"Do you have any pictures?"

(Jayne, unaware that he has just been most dreadfully betrayed, carries a round of drinks back to the table.)

The scowl in the picture is very familiar, even on a nine-year old face. The bewildered bundle in his arms must be Jolene, and the toddler clutching his pants leg, Mattie.

"I was pregnant with Emmie-Lou then. She was a bit of a surprise, 'cos we'd reckoned on three being enough. He was always very good with his sisters, though. Tormented 'em somethin' fierce, but he wouldn't let no-one else hurt 'em." Shakes her head. "Jolene went breakin' her heart over some boy wouldn't ask her to a dance, once, so Jayne went an' got him with a shotgun."

Ilargia smothers a smile. It's all here, in this faded album. Jayne comes from a large and loving family, and he's spent a long time coming back full circle to the same. And Carrie's reaction to finding that her new daughter-in-law has a college education is simply one of ill-concealed glee. (Teach that Effie Hancock to go boasting about her daughter the nurse.) The mere mention of history, and there are more albums.

"Been six generations on Deadwood, now. Cobbs was one of the Breakpack families." That's a distinction, too. The first Settlers. "I was a Paulding afore I married, but a Cobb on my mother's side. And Ray's mother, she was a Fulton. My sister Augusta, she's married to a Bartow, and they're kin from three generations back..."

To anybody else, it might be tiresome. To a historian, it's a homecoming.

0000

They have fetched up in the bar known as 'Dooly's'. The original Dooly is long since dead, but the name remains, and this is where the 'Arcie's' drink. Look on most folk here, and there will be a dragon someplace. Jayne and Mattie sit in one of the old booths - same tattered vinyl on the chairs, and the same tinny radio, ignored behind the bar. Prob'ly the same initials carved in under the table, you know where to look.

"You still livin' at home, then?"

"Yeah." They both look to where Ray is getting the drinks in. "Pa still reckons on climbin' the roof to fix the gutter, an' he's a stubborn ol' buzzard."

"I know it." Jayne looks into his mug. "I...gorram, I din't mean for you..."

"Oh, hey." Mattie punches him. "I like it fine. I got my meals, my laundry..."

They both laugh. But Jayne has noted how much greyer, and somehow smaller, his folks are. Twists in him, a little.

"They...doing okay, though?"

"Yeah. Grumble somethin' fierce about the wages of sin when your letters arrive, but they spend the credits." He thumps his chest. "Means I got lungs that work again. I got a job lined up, too."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Security detail. They want a man as can take care of himself, an' anyone else as wants a piece."

"You're gonna be a cop?" Jayne stares at him in horror. Mattie grins.

"'Bout time one of us got respectable." A pause. "You could..."

"I couldn't." Stares down at his hands. "Never got my school cert, did I?"

"You kept us fed, though. Now, you gonna tell me the real story of how come you got a sweet woman like that?"

"Pure dumb luck." Jayne grins at Mattie.

"Allus thought you'd be free and single. You never wanted to get wed afore."

"Never met a woman as set me afire like her, that's why." He looks at his battered hands. "Bin a lot o' women on a lot o' worlds, and I won't deny it. But ain't ever bin one like my li'l peach. She...takes care of me, Mattie. Not just the sexin', though she is something wild. Ain't the cookin', neither. She's just...mine, an' I'm happy."

"You gone soft." Mattie smirks.

"Give you soft..." Jayne don't want to be gushin' his heart all over the place. Grabs his brother in a headlock. Ray steps back with the round of drinks.

"You go spillin' this, you're payin', boy."

"Oh, hey, beer." Sparring forgotten, the brothers grab their mugs. Ray lifts his.

"To my boys."

"Pa." They chorus. Ray sets his mug down, fixes Jayne with his eye.

"Now, then. You tell us straight out how you met that girl, and that's with the bits we ain't gonna tell your ma..."

0000

The house is dark when they come creeping in. This don't mean that trouble ain't brewin', mind, just that it's turned the lights off, and is waiting to scold a man quietly and at leisure...

Ray sidesteps the lecture by saluting his wife good and hearty. She slaps at him, without conviction.

"Ray Cobb, if you think you're gettin' round me like that..."

"Bin workin' for forty-five years, dear heart...now, what'd you make of the girlie?"

Carrie considers.

"She'll do." It's the pronouncement of the Oracle. Ray chuckles.

"He's fair mazed about her."

"Leastways he had the wit to find one with some steel to her."

Ray reckons she don't know the half of it. But Carrie settles herself.

"Lost all she had in a fire, Ray. We gotta do something about that..."

"Tomorrow, darlin'. You sleep, now. G'night."

"G'night. But don't think I'm forgivin' you for runnin' out."

"Go to sleep, Carrie."

0000

Jayne grew up in this room. He shared it with Mattie for years, 'til Emmie-Lou got wed, and the girls' room was free. Gingham curtains, and the old brass bedsteads, still with the faded quilts.

Tries not to knock into nothin', or drop his boots too heavy, but part of the quilt hunches up, and a small, sleepy voice says,

"Jayne?"

"Yeah, _mi tao_." He gets under the covers, wraps himself round his nice, warm wife. Who squeaks. "Mmm."

"You smell of beer. And smoke." She wriggles ineffectually. "And your feet are cold."

"Soon warm up." Puts his nose into the curve of her neck. "You have a nice chat with Ma, then?"

"Oh yes." A beat. "She showed me some lovely baby pictures."

There is a strangled noise. Ilargia grins in the darkness.

Weirdest thing in the whole gorram 'Verse, to be laying in his old bed, starin' at the same marks on the ceiling (still got the crack as looks like the Belt, an' a stain looks kinda like a face if you squint...), hearin' the sounds of the town faint through the window, the night-train running up to the hills. But there's a weight on his shoulder, and a fall of soft hair, that he can touch to his lips, he bends his head. In his parents' house, with Larji in his arms.

_'mi tao' means 'honey peach'_


	4. Chapter 4

The 'port is the same as any the 'verse over. Not as modern as some, but functional, workshops giving way to a gaudy strip of what might euphemistically be termed service industries. (One of them is the Painted Cat.) _Serenity_ is tucked between a superannuated cruiser having an engine replaced, and two halves of a long-range transporter, nothing more than shell. Yard shuts down for the night, which meant they had some sleep, but it also starts quite early, a dawn chorus of welding and banging that penetrates the hull.

The man in the shipyard office is a pleasant enough sort, fair hair cropped to hide both the grey and sparseness. He slides a pair of spectacles down his nose, looks over them to peruse the list Mal's given him.

"Can get you the parts, without a doubt, Captain. But if you're on a clock, gonna be a double shift to get all that done today."

"What about tomorrow?"

The man (who is Lyall Whitfield) looks scandalized.

"Nobody works on the Lord's day."

Mal blinks.

"I kinda lost track of the days." He lies. Reckons on why Jayne and the Shepherd got along now. "Double shift will have to do."

Gets back onto his own ship and peers onto the bridge. River is running some kind of simulation on the screen, both hands moving independently as she types data with one, makes notes with the other. She gives him a tired smile.

"You got us a course yet, then?"

"Got a launch window. Like fishing - got to wait on the bank for the current to flow right." Points to one speck of colour in the moving pattern on the screen. "Found our fish."

"We'll wait for it to surface, then." Mal sits, and watches the spin of colour for a moment. Blinks and rubs his eyes. "That could make a body queasy."

River doesn't tell him that she's slowed it down. No need to worry him until it's necessary. Instead, she shuts the screen.

"Quieter without the Cobbs on board."

"Don't say it like it's a bad thing, _mei-mei_." Mal puts his hands behind his head, stretches in his chair. "Lived in the rough and tumble a while, thought a few days peace wouldn't fret you."

River gives him a doubtful look, searches for the words.

"No. Jayne and his Larji...are like fireworks. Fill the Black. Without them...it's colder. Can hear a lot more."

Can hear you. Slow turning pain.

Zoe lost Wash. And she mourns him. But it was an event. A moment in time, clear and defined. The nebulous, undefined nature of Mal's feelings don't allow him to recognise such things for himself. How can one mourn the ending of something that did not really exist?

0000

The work-gang arrive, laden with gear, a tide of noise, striding figures in overalls and face-masks, looming and shouting.

Kaylee is happy as a clam, bossin' men twice her size about. This place reminds her of home, somehow. The men don't have fancy manners, but they are good workers, as listen to engineers, even ones as only come up to their collar-bone.

Zoe, about to start welding a plate, finds a hand as big as a ham in the way.

"Now, then, ma'am, this here is a shipyard, and this is our craft. You just take your ease." A wide grin. "Sooner we get this done, sooner we can all knock off for the day. My cousins' folks are havin' a pig-roast."

Zoe ain't a small woman, and she ain't used to speaking up at folks all the time. Makes her cranky. She ain't used to being 'ma'am', neither. But these men know their business, and the extra plating goes on sweet and simple. There ain't a deal to do but watch.

"I keep seeing people that look like him." Simon peers around. "Am I imagining it?"

"No." River says cheerfully. "Planet of the Jaynes. Unnatural selection at work."

"Oh, that's gonna give me nightmares." Mal shudders.

"Wonder what Jayne's doin' about now?" Zoe asks idly.

"Something dreadful, probably."

0000

Jayne is, in fact, standing about half a mile away. Slouching would be a better term; propped against a wall, hemmed in with a number of bags.

Saturday morning had brought a breakfast of fried ham and eggs, and a stern injunction to stop dallying and be useful.

"We're taking that girl down the Store, get her a decent frock."

The Store had started life as a utilitarian block, issuing Company rations, overalls and tools. Over the generations, it has spread, acquired more floors and a fancy facade, but it still sells everything from beans to boots to hatchets to hair-ribbons. Shopping ain't something Jayne cares a deal for, less'n it's blades or bullets. Too many childhood Saturdays spent lugging the basket round behind his Ma. Just 'cos he towers over her now, an' the basket fits in one hand, don't mean he likes it better. His father and Mattie have already been despatched on other errands, and his wife lets him down by examining her boots critically and asking wistfully after sandals.

Only thing as makes it bearable is to see that he ain't alone in purgatory. There are a number of menfolk with faces ranging from glazed to hunted bein' dragged about, laden with packages and gloom.

Ilargia finds it hilarious. Her large, tough husband reduced to childhood again, trailing after his mother with an expression of suffering. Sidles up beside him, and pats his rear.

"You're bearing up nobly, darling."

He gives her a wounded look.

"You ain't gonna try on every pair of shoes, are you?"

She grins at him.

"Don't look so scared, darling. Soon as I find a pair to fit, we're done. Apparently, your mother has invited everyone round for supper this evening."

0000

Out back of the houses, the gardens stretch out, a patchwork of scrubby grass and small vegetable patches. Beyond the end of the Cobb's fence, it's open ground, edge of the town, but the fence is still there, a boundary to the home. Jayne remembers the barbeque - helped his father build it, can't have been more than seven or so, heaving the bricks over one by one. Still a wobbly 'J' in the mortar, and a thumb-print from Mattie.

Cooking meat is men's business. Women take care of the fripperies, the salads and slaws, pies and pickles. This means that the kitchen is an orderly place of quiet activity, plates and bowls set out ready. The garden is full of smoke and temper.

Carrie has to admit, Larji is quite handy in a kitchen, briskly chopping cabbage for slaw. They've had a cosy day. Girl knows how to lay her money out, and go after a bargain. And though she ain't got the lightest hand with pastry, there's a respectable turnout of pies and cookies.

They both look out of the window, to where the debate around the firepit is getting...technical. The famous Cobb Family Barbeque Sauce recipe is being debated. This is an honour, Ilargia understands, a Mystery for the Initiated.

"Best take 'em some more cold beer."

"Serve it, or throw it over them?"

Carrie laughs.

"Don't you be wasting good beer, girl. You get."

Watches from the window, as Jayne stops arguing with his brother long enough to kiss his wife. Her big son, looking more like his father than ever, gentled some from the rough gunhand who scares her. She don't want to think on the kind of life he leads, but he seems to have found some measure of peace now, an' a woman who cares for him. She sniffs. Leastways he's got some sense now, grown out of chasin' women all bosom and no brain. Just hope that Mattie steadies some, too.

Stops being 'family' and becomes 'clan' after about the first hour. Both Ray and Carrie have siblings, and some of their children have children, too. It's a parade of names and faces, Cobbs, Bartows and Pauldings mainly, with a few Fultons, and the odd lost soul from outside the circle.

Ilargia knows exactly what Jayne looked like as a teen. Tyler, Grady, Dawson, Franklin Jr., gangly, awkward youths, trying to be big men. Dawson is trying out a moustache, but it isn't really working. Occasionally, a voice swoops and cracks still. They blunder enthusiastically about, talking of guns and girls, trying to emulate the confident stride of their older kin. She finds them terribly sweet, though she would never hurt their pride by saying so.

"I do like your family, Jayne. I think you must have been just like Tyler at that age."

"Prob'ly." Jayne agrees gloomily. Makin' him feel old, seeing all these gorram kids. There's certain numbers have an ominous ring to 'em. 4 is one of 'em, especially when it's got a 0 followin' behind.

"He was just like Tyler, all feet and fumblin'." The speaker is Jolene Cobb. Unsurprisingly, she's a big, fair woman, though nature has been kind enough to soften her features a little. Ilargia likes her; she laughs easily, and her first reaction on seeing Ilargia was to be loudly grateful that someone else was wearing trousers.

Emmie-Lou takes after the Paulding side, being smaller and slighter than her sister. Most folks came round the side of the house; she had to knock at the front door. Spends a lot of time talking about her husband, a rather stolid young man standing uneasily on the edge of the group, and waving her ringed hand under Jolene's nose. She won't come near the smoke and fuss, sitting on the porch and sipping lemonade.

Ilargia takes a chance.

"Was she a brat growing up?"

Jolene's face relaxes.

"Was she ever. In an' out of hospital a deal as a baby - rather left poor Jayne to take care of me and Mattie - an' she's kept on bein' delicate ever since. Allus meant she din't do a hands turn of chores more'n she ever had to, an' then she went and married Calhoun Webster. He's got an office job, makes her a cut above, an' they live up north of Main, by Liberty Park. She says they're waitin' to start a family." A pause. "She ain't ever forgiven me."

"Oh?"

"Had myself a little accident at the age of sixteen. Name of Tyler."

"He's yours?" He's nearly as big as Mattie, but not quite filled out through the shoulders, unruly dark curls and what she's beginning to recognise as the Cobb nose and jaw.

"His father din't want to know. Oh, Pa and the boys brung him back, but I din't want him around, so they ran him outta town again. Heard tell he died out in the Belt a few years back. Bin just me an' Tyler, since."

Jolene has the one thing Emmie-Lou wants, and Emmie-Lou has everything else. The 'Verse has a way of evening scores.

Once the conversation turns to pigs, Jayne sidles away. Hog-killing ain't something he ever reckoned on her knowin', but she's telling a real nasty tale of black pudding, which he don't want to be hearing; a man don't like to be thinking on scabs when he's eating. Goes to find another beer.

"How long you gonna be stayin', then?" His father asks. "Not that you ain't welcome."

"Waiting for a call. Cap'n'll let us know when he wants us."

"You ever think on settling? Can maybe get you a place on the gang..."

"I ain't stayin', Pa." Jayne stares at his father. "Got me a job, and folks as rely on me. Cap'n's a fine man, but he has a tendency to walk us into situations I gotta pull him out of."

Ray sighs.

"Never thought you'd stay, but your mother wanted me to ask."

"Wanted you to tell me, more like." They share a wry grin.

"You got to make your own way, boy. I know it. And you got yourself a fine woman there. You be good to her."

"Anything happens to me..."

"Nothin's gonna happen to you. You're a Cobb - we happen to other folks." Ray claps him on the shoulder.

"M'serious, Pa. My kinda life..."

"I don't want to be knowing, son." Ray is firm. "But that little woman of your'n, she's kin, now."

"All I was asking." A weight he didn't know he was carryin' lifts from him.

0000

Evening on _Serenity, _and Mal finds the other Tam in the kitchen. Swathed in the apron, and small face serious as she stirs the pot. He sniffs.

"That smells...interesting."

"Yes." River agrees. "But there is a difference between the conception and the resolution." Big tragic eyes. "I think I burnt it."

"You mistreatin' innocent protein again, sir?" Zoe sniffs, too.

"My fault." River pokes the pan gloomily. "Did exactly what Gia does, but the results are...different."

"Just lack of practice, _mei-mei._" Mal wonders about giving her a hug, settles for patting a shoulder. More...Captain-y. "Put enough hot sauce on it, won't matter. Can't be worse than the eating on Priam, can it, Zoe?"

She shudders.

"We woulda done harm for something tasted like Simon's cookin'."

They regard the pan some more. Then with one accord, Mal flips open the bin, and River dumps it.

"Reckon we could see what Deadwood has to offer the discernin' diner."

0000

The site office is closed for the evening, only a bored security man in a booth. He livens up considerable at the sight of womenfolk.

"Most folks don't venture much beyond the 'Port, but you look like nice folks, as want more than a bar and a...bed. There's good eating at the corner of Main and Liberty, just past the Store. Or you can go down to Chinatown, eat at Long's."

"Is there a decent bath-house?" Zoe asks, suddenly.

"Well, now, ma'am, reckon there's Putnam's hotel, one block past the Picture House." Kaylee actually squeaks, and he smiles at her. "They got a new film in, all the way from the Core. If'n you young 'un's want a seat, I'd be hurryin', 'cos Saturday's a real popular night."

Beyond the spaceport strip, they stop, surprised. Main Street before them, a double row of businesses, dominated by the large building that is the Store. Boardwalks are humming, with folk going about their Saturday night. There's a deal of young people, groups of boys and girls, eyeing each other with feigned indifference. Or the odd couple, braving giggles and ribald teasing, arm in arm. There's a couple of honest restaurants, too, chop-houses, rather than real high-toned dining, but with table cloths and menus.

"This is Jayne's hometown?"

It doesn't have quite the impact for the others, but for Mal and Kaylee, it's strangely familiar. In fact, it's a deal fancier than Kaylee's hometown. Mal looks at the company scrip in his hand.

"I feel like I'm doling out 'lowance here. I gotta tell you to be back by eleven?"

"No, Cap'n." Kaylee grins. "My folks was always groundin' me, anyhow."

Zoe takes her share, already with that dreamy look she gets in anticipation of soap and soft towels.

"I may well stay out all night, if the beds look soft."

"Saturday night in Deadwood." Simon looks around with a certain horror. "I shudder to think what they do for fun here."

River looks closely at him, then thumps him.

"Not that sort of planet. Not that sort of sister. And the fighting doesn't start until the bars shut."

"Were you displayin' a degree of unwarranted cultural superiority there, doc?" Mal grins. Simon is rubbing his bicep; River is always accurate. "They do the same as most folks, I'd wager. A little drinking and dancing, a deal of flirting."

"Sounds real fine to me." Kaylee grabs Simon's hand, before he can attempt to stay with River.

Mal looks at River.

"You not goin' with your brother, then?"

She pulls a face.

"Going to be kissing all through it."

"Time-honoured tradition."

They look at each other, a little unsure. It's been so long since Mal was out on the town with a girl, he's forgotten...'cept he ain't out on the town with a girl, he's just mindin' River, is all. He smiles at her.

"Got enough credits in my pocket, we can go find that place in Chinatown..."

River smiles back. She's annoyed with his dismissive thought, but she still has him to herself for an evening.

"_Dim sum _would be good."

0000

Things Simon Tam never thought to be doing. Sitting in a picture house, back end of the 'Verse, watching a film made before his grandparents were born, and eating something that actually seems to have a negative food value. Popcorn is not something he is acquainted with. It is oddly moorish, though. He casts an eye around. Stretches, oh so casually, and puts an arm along the back of Kaylee's seat.

Kaylee grins. Simon's beginnin' to get the hang of things now.


	5. Chapter 5

Mal watches River consume another plate of _dian xin_. For a skinny thing, she can sure eat.

Long's had not been hard to find. The house fronted onto the street, the room beyond already crowded with folk at the small tables. The roof is of a design old on Earth-That-Was, but the eaves of the pagoda are not wood, but curved metal, reclaimed spars from some old craft, strung about with lights. River had greeted the waiter with impeccable and formal ritual, and instead of ending up near the kitchens, they have a table out back, overlooking the courtyard, with its small carp pond. Mal ain't used to spending ten minutes deciding on tea, either, but this is River's evening out, and when he sees her small face so serious, yet somehow alight, he ain't gonna snuff that flame. Never had a blend called 'Iron Goddess of Mercy', neither - makes him think of Zoe. River smiles sadly at him.

"She is going to bathe, and cry a little, then drink a bottle of wine to his memory, and tonight, she will sleep peacefully."

"You know too much, li'l albatross." He sighs. "She gonna be okay?"

"One day. Takes time to heal." It's an adult look on her child's face. "Tomorrow, she will strap on her armour again, but tonight, she is the widow, not the warrior."

"An' it's my fault." Words slip out.

"No. Wash chose to fly." Hand touches his. "We all did, once we saw the stars."

"You love to fly, don't you?"

"Best dance in the whole 'Verse." She assures him, knows his worry. "Can catch your fish for you."

He grins.

"Let's not think on that no more this evenin'. I want some of them rice pastries afore you eat the lot. Don't want a chubby pilot weighin' my ship down."

Her look of indignation is rather marred by the sugar on her chin. He reaches out a finger, wipes it away before he thinks.

From the kitchens, eyes watch them.

"Hmph. I tell you, that is not his daughter."

"No." The other waitress sighs. "Lucky girl. He is so _shuai_."

"Sad eyes." The first girl peers again. "But a smile to break hearts."

"And such a cute _pi gu_."

They giggle, until Long himself comes into the kitchens and chases them back to work.

0000

"She ain't what we'd expect you to be bringin' home." Terrell Paulding smirks at his cousin. "More brains an' less tits."

Jayne reaches out a none-too-gentle hand, but Mattie, an arm's length nearer, punches his cousin first.

"You mind your mouth 'bout kin."

"You done married her?" Terrell's face changes comically. "Gorram, I'm sorry, Jayne."

"Dunno why folks is so surprised." Jayne grumbles. "Man gets to a certain age, he starts to think on settlin'."

"'Sides," Mattie grins, "She's the ship's cook, Ter."

There's a swing seat one end of the back porch. Ilargia, escaping, as she thinks, from the rather overwhelmingly domestic conversations, sits down there, whereupon a small child climbs up into her lap and introduces itself, rather incoherently. Jayne watches, rather relieved that she don't seem to be clucking too much over the little ones. In fact, the face she turns to him is rather desperate.

"I don't know who it belongs to."

"Reckon it's one of Loretta's brood." Jayne stuffs it carelessly under one arm, eliciting shrieks of delight. "Gorram, it's sticky."

"Which one's Loretta? Wait, is she the middle one of your Uncle Franklin's kids?"

"I can't keep 'em all straight." Jayne has good reason to know which one Loretta is, but he ain't too keen on 'xplaining that to Larji. Puts the squirming bundle down, punts it in the direction of other folks. "You see that nice lady in the pink gown? Reckon she might have some sweeties for you."

"Oh, that was cruel." Ilargia watches the toddler launch itself at Emmie-Lou.

"Yeah." Jayne grins. "Em's bin sittin' there, niggling at Jo all evenin'. She's so keen on kids, thought she might like a real one to deal on." He sits down on the seat, gets comfy. Ilargia pulls her feet up, curls against his side.

It's a nice place to be, Jayne reckons. Just one toe on the ground, keep the seat swinging gentle-like, and an armful of wife.

"Ooh, look." Ilargia laughs softly. "Real fireflies."

0000

Sunday morning. Knocking on the door, and Mattie's voice.

"Ma says to get on up, or you'll be late for church."

"Church?" Ilargia mouths to Jayne. He looks vaguely guilty, and she narrows her eyes.

"Means a lot to my Ma."

"I..." She stops. How to say it? A thousand years ago, your kind of people burnt my kind of people? Perhaps not the best time to bring it up. She sighs. "I'd better wear my new skirt, hadn't I?"

She's surprised at herself. Conciliation is not usually in her nature. But neither can she find it in her to be rude to her hosts. Gives her a slightly twitchy feeling, though. Like losing bits of herself. And she remembers this feeling all too well, the snake of fear uncoiling in her gut. The moment passes too quickly to grasp; Jayne is already heading for the bathroom, leaves her sitting there, suddenly a little lost.

0000

Years roll back for Jayne. The same walk down the same dusty street, same church. Company built the school, the store, the hospital, but this is theirs, the Settlers'. Never thought to be walking back here, an' with a wife, too.

Still Pastor Lowndes, preachin'. Smaller and greyer, but as hell-fire fierce as when he called on God to witness seven-year-old Jayne Cobb pinchin' his baby brother during the service.

Ilargia doesn't like churches. They always give her an uncomfortable sensation of being watched (and probably disapproved of.). Here, the watching part at least is true. She's not sure about the disapproval. Looks up at the ceiling. Takes her eye a moment to realise what she is seeing. The whole vault of the ceiling is a section of hull plating, girders as crossbeams. The first settlers turned their rocket into a roof.

It's a bit of an ordeal, since she doesn't know the responses, or the hymns, and she's overcome with a terrible urge to giggle, an urge that fades rather under Pastor Lowndes' steely eye. Reminds her very vividly of a teacher she once had. Something slightly surreal about sitting on the hard wooden bench, listening to someone else's myths. Warmth against her leg is her husband, and she looks up sideways. Jayne is intent on the preacher, that little frown between his brows. She files his faith away as another surprising thing about this man she's married. Feels small and lost, a little adrift.

Neither of them are expecting the next bit.

"And I would call upon this congregation here present to join with me in giving thanks for the safe return of one of our own, and to bless his union with a woman, who, though a stranger to us, is known unto God as one of his lambs. In the sight of the Almighty, and witnessed by us all, Jayne and Ilargia Cobb, a blessing on you, and be true to one another under the vows you have taken."

Ilargia makes a noise rather like a mouse being trodden on.

"Kinda stuck with him now." Mattie whispers, wickedly.

0000

After Church, there is to be a Family Dinner. And it will be Family, with the capital 'F'. All the Cobb siblings together around a table. Mattie sighs dramatically.

"Guess I'm the odd one out, Ma."

"You just need to find yourself a nice girl." She swipes him fondly. "Not one of them dancers."

Ilargia finds herself sat between Jayne and Calhoun. He gives her a slightly froggy stare. She knows that he can't quite make her out. He'd like to condescend to her, but doesn't quite dare. Settles for a few stifled comments about the weather.

It's not a comfortable meal. The Websters are clearly used to being the centre of attention, and deferred to. They can't quite place Ilargia in their minds. Wife of the not-quite-prodigal son, and a ships' cook, but there's something more to her, a touch of refinement.

Tyler, allowed a glass of wine with the adults, manages to spill it, and Emmie-Lou rolls her eyes, makes some quiet comment about upbringin', which Ilargia doesn't quite hear all of, but which makes Jolene flush angrily. The poor boy is scarlet to the ears, makes more of a mess trying to clean it up. Carrie shoos him up to the bathroom to change his shirt.

"Poor kid." Ilargia means the comment for Jayne, but Calhoun jumps in.

"It's as I was saying, you see. The young need discipline. Strong male role models in the home and community."

"Calhoun is hoping to run for town councillor." Emmie-Lou informs her new sister-in-law. Ilargia daren't catch Jolene's eye, as she nods politely. Jayne makes a small rude noise, and Emmie-Lou glares at him. "Leastways he's doin' something for the town, instead of running off and leaving other folks to manage."

All the Cobbs break out at that.

"I send money back..."

"Don't see you from one week to the next less'n it's for a chance to swank..."

"How's sittin' in a meeting help to put food on the table?"

"Don't you speak to your sister like that..."

"Enough!" Ray bangs his hand on the table. "We're gonna have a quiet dinner, and I don't want to hear no more bickerin' about who got what. We all got what we been given, and we best be grateful for it. Now, pass on up the potatoes to Larji, Mattie."

Tyler sidles back into the room, manages to sit down without pulling the cloth. Ilargia smiles at him, and he smiles timidly back. He is so much like Jayne, even down to the little frown between the eyes. Has his uncle's sweetness, as well as his scowl. When he stops destroying everything he lays his big hands on, he's going to be a heart-breaker.

Tyler likes his new aunt. She don't make him feel like a big mistake. After dinner, she actually talks to him like he's a grown-up, nothin' about school or a lecture 'bout being a good citizen despite his disadvantages. An' she's married to Uncle Jayne. He vaguely remembers the man, an' Ma has plenty of stories about her big brother. Run off to space, and makes a livin' protectin' folks. Ain't nobody kicks him about, Tyler reckons.

0000

Ilargia, folding some of her new clothes into her little bag, finds a parcel she doesn't recognise.

"What's this?"

Jayne peers at it.

"Be a present from Ma. She's prob'ly knitted you a hat."

"Oh, that would be sweet." Ilargia bites her lip. "Do you think she likes me, then?"

"Why wouldn't she?" Jayne is mystified.

"Oh, nasty foreign creature stealing her beloved son. I don't always make a good first impression. You thought I was a 'gorram pest' when we first met."

"I never." Pause. "Did I?"

"Yes. You wanted to throw me off the ship."

"Well, I done got some sense after that." A beat. "What'd you think of me, then?"

"Big. Scary. Sexy. My opinion didn't change."

Jayne laughs.

"Ma likes you fine, darlin'. She done put your name in the Family Bible now, so you'd best get used to being a Cobb."

She blinks. Such an odd gesture of acceptance.

"The...Church thing. It's all a bit...new to me."

"I know. Ain't no deal, though. We was raised different, is all. Won't do your soul no harm, a bit of spit and polish. An' mine needs all the buffin' it'll stand. You got kin to take care of you now, anything happens to me." Pause. "Pa asked if I wanted a job in the Yards."

She goes still.

"Did you accept?"

"No." He looks at her. "Did you want me to?"

Ilargia sits down suddenly. She's spent a handful of days on her best behaviour, and frightened, and this is all a bit too much. She bursts into tears.

"I can't do this, Jayne."

"Do what?" He's bewildered, terrified. She don't want him no more.

"Church and babies and living here. I know you wanted to live dirtside, but I'm too old and too different and I feel wrong..."

"Ain't askin' you to, _bao bei_." He drops to his knees, where he can take her hands, pull them away from her face to see her eyes. "Larji, we'll live anyplace you chose. An' I ain't askin' you to do nothing but be my darlin'." Raw panic on his face. "Just...don't leave me, _mi tao_."

"Oh, Jayne." She burrows into his arms. Jayne holds her fiercely. This little woman has made herself the centre of his 'Verse, an' he gets more scared all the time.

"I know I ain't got any book-learning for how this goes. I ain't never bin married afore. I'm gonna do dumb things, but you gotta tell me, an' I'll try to fix 'em."

"It's not you." She surfaces, takes a breath. "It's just...I went through some bad _go se_ before, with a mother in law who didn't like me."

"Ma likes you fine. She's started naggin' me to be a better husband." The indignation makes her giggle.

"I don't think I could have a better husband." Bites her lip. "Do you want to stay?"

"_Bao bei, _I jumped planet first time, 'cos there's not enough work here." Runs a gentle thumb under her eyes. "Just wanted you to meet my folks, is all. Ma tried plannin' my life for me afore this, an' it din't work then." He settles her under his chin, where she belongs. "That's the truth of it, darlin'. I din't go runnin' from the law, or nothin' romantic. I just din't want to get married and have a passel of kids, Church on Sundays and the foreman's job if I was real lucky. I went lookin' for work and excitement, and I was always handy with my fists. Was always the big, dumb kid in trouble." Chuckles. "Ain't much changed."

She manages a weak little laugh, wipes her eyes.

"Getting myself all wrought up over nothing again." She burrows up comfortably. "You really don't mind that I'm a nasty little heathen?"

"Hell, no." She feels his deep laugh under her ear. "You're my wicked li'l witch-woman, an' that suits me fine." Arms tighten around her. "Now, don't go scarin' me like that again."

He sits on the bed and gathers her up in his lap.

"I reckon we ever live dirtside, we'll go back to Hecate." Ventures a grin. "See if that scary friend of your'n needs any muscle about the place."

The thought of Juno and Jayne ripping up a bar together is quite enough to shake Ilargia out of her gloom. He takes advantage, finds her mouth with his.

Just sitting, curled up together, they have that feeling of being themselves again, a sense that some barrier has been crossed.

A mood broken by something buzzing irritably away.

"Something in your bag is swearing." Ilargia laughs. "Some of your underwear finally turned feral?"

"Sounds like Mal." Jayne reluctantly unwraps himself, ferrets around for the comm. "Time to go to work, then."

0000

Pretty much the whole family come down to the field to see them off, a scrum of kisses and hugs and handshakes.

Ilargia finds herself being hugged by Carrie.

"If you can't keep him honest, you keep him alive." The older woman wipes her eyes. "Allus expected him to come home in a box. Never thought he'd get some sense." Turns and slaps the broad chest for emphasis. "Now, you be good to Larji, you hear me? She's a fine girl, an' I want you to write regular, tell me when you got news." Then she has a little weep. Ray moves her from her sons' chest to his, and smiles crookedly at Jayne over her head.

"Best get in the air afore your shuttle ends up floatin'."

0000

Jayne leans back in his chair, flicks the autopilot on.

"Reckon we just sit in orbit, wait for _Serenity._"

"Just sit, huh?" She grins at him, that wicked look as turns his heart over.

"Well, now, you got somethin' else in mind?"

"Oh, I can think of..." Ends in a squeak and a laugh, as Jayne pounces. Been a handful of days under his parents' roof, and mighty frustrated with it. Now, they got a nice comfy shuttle, an' time to waste.

Waltz back into the shuttle, and heading for the bed, in a fumble of clothes, when somewhere behind them, in the shadows, a figure moves. Ilargia sees a shape, screams...


	6. Chapter 6

Jayne lunges, with a roar, and there is a frightened yell.

"It's only me, don't shoot, please, don't shoot, I'm so gorram sorry, Uncle Jayne..."

Tyler Cobb is just a scared boy, especially in the face of an embarrassed and angry uncle. Jayne, suddenly aware, lets go of his collar, and does his pants up.

Ilargia has recovered a little of her composure, and her shirt. Tyler can't meet her eyes - seen a deal more of his aunt than he ever expected to, and he's scarlet. Jayne clouts him.

"You gorram young fool, near got yourself killed. What'n hell you doin'?"

"Gonna be a spacer like you." Juts his jaw.

"The hell you are..."

"Tyler, your mother is going to be frantic..."

The lower lip comes out, a familiar pout.

"I ain't a child no more. Got my own gun, an' I'm ready to do a man's job."

"That so? Well, I'm takin' your ass right back..."

"Don't want to go back. It ain't nothin' but people jawin' at me that I ain't no good."

Jayne, about to yell some more, stops abruptly.

"Who told you that _go se_?"

"Oh, Uncle Cal and Aunt Em are always tellin' Ma..."

"Oh, Tyler." His Aunt Larji looks cross, but not with him.

They both stare at him. Skinny kid in a too large leather jacket, toting a scruffy kitbag, and a rifle older than he is. Jayne looks at his wife, helpless. She shrugs.

"I think you had better call the Captain. Tell him we have a...passenger."

Jayne swears his way back into the cabin, and Ilargia looks at Tyler. He shuffles miserably. They can hear one side of the conversation.

"Mal, we got a problem...got a stowaway." Pause. "My nephew...I din't know he snuck aboard. Near shot the little idiot." A indistinct noise. "Seventeen, an' old enough to know better...yeah, yeah...Oh, hey, Mal...I don't gotta...yeah." Stomps back.

"Cap'n says we ain't got time to turn about and set you down, so we gotta take you along." Points a stern finger. "You're gonna hafta earn your keep a few days, boy."

Tyler looks like he's been given the best present of his young life.

0000

_Serenity_ looms up, and the shuttle locks in. Tyler is trying to look like it's no big deal, but his eyes are very round. He trails out of the shuttle after Jayne. Mal and Zoe stare at him.

"This here is m'sister's boy, Tyler." Jayne cuffs him. "Stand up straight, boy, this is the Captain. You pay good mind to him." (Mal, who has never noticed Jayne to do this particularly, hides his surprise.) "An' that's Zoe with him. She's First Mate. They done fought together in the War, proper soldiers. She tells you to do somethin', you do it right quick."

Kaylee clatters down the steps, Simon behind her.

"I heard we got...oh, don't he look like you!"

Both Cobbs scowl, which just makes it funnier.

"This is Kaylee. She keeps the engines running sweet. That with her is the Doc. He digs out any bullets you might be dumb enough to walk into to. An' someplace round here, we got his sister, and she's the pilot...there."

Tyler sees a girl, like a little fairy thing, dancin' down the steps.

River looks at Tyler. He's...cute. Trying to so be big and tough, but really just a boy. She likes his dark hair, every which way, and the shy smile replacing that familiar scowl. Not too bright. But she doesn't need to read minds to see the open admiration in the way he gawps. It's...nice. She smiles back, and Tyler nearly drops his kitbag, goes red again.

Captain looks real stern, though not as scary as Ms Zoe. Ms Kaylee looks sweet, got a smile makes him feel like he ain't gonna get shot. Doctor is near as stern as the Captain. But his sister...Looks sidelong at her again, finds her big dark eyes fixed on him.

"Interestin' visit, then?" Zoe murmurs to Ilargia.

"Oh, you know." Ilargia shrugs wryly. "It's not a proper holiday unless you bring back a souvenir."

0000

Sitting around the table, a crew meeting. Tyler is caught between sitting up and paying strict attention, or lounging casually like his uncle. Ends up adopting a kind of hunched shoulder freeze as Mal gestures towards him, and he becomes the centre of all eyes.

"Tyler here has decided that he wants to see what life in the Black is like. Means we got a passenger for a few days."

"Can earn my keep." says Tyler, defiantly.

"Doin' what?" Mal isn't unkind, but he is firm. Boy shuts his mouth tight, and looks miserable. River glares. Mal carries on.

"We ain't got time to turn about. We miss this run, the cargo goes into the middle of the drift, hits the current and gone. May come out the other side, more like to get smashed all to hell."

"We're goin' into the Belt?" Tyler goes a little pale.

"You wanted to come along. S'where the job is." Jayne mutters.

"Lost my Pa out there someplace, is all." Tyler regards the thought of it with horrified fascination. "Need to be a real good pilot for there."

"Oh, we got a real good pilot. Ain't we, River?" Mal says.

River, who has been gazing sidelong at Tyler, jerks guiltily. Mal narrows his eyes, and she blinks back at him.

"I locked onto the navsat trace, calculated the course. We sit and wait for it to come up within range, move in and pick it up."

"Fishin'." Jayne grunts. "Like sittin' on the bank an' waitin' for the bull-trout to rise."

"Ain't ever reckoned on you havin' the patience to fish." Mal tries not to grin.

"Lot you don't know about me." He says it matter of fact, not mean. "We making this problem sleep in the hold, then?"

"He gets a bunk in the passenger quarters." Mal looks at Tyler. "You got the run of the ship, 'cept for the engine-room and the bridge."

"Yessir, Captain, sir."

0000

"We really got to take him with us, Sir?"

"Unless you want to be losing that crate, we surely do." Mal frowns. "Can't afford to be doing that. But I don't have to like it."

"Kinda freezes the blood, don't it?" Zoe shivers. "Looks just like - him, only smaller. And...cleaner."

"Be nice for River to have someone her own age about." Mal says with a forced heartiness. Zoe gives him a Look, and his expression changes like it's been slapped off.

"We trained grunts that age, Sir. Or have you wiped that from your memory?"

"I try to." He brightens. "Still, he don't have to be our problem..."

0000

Tyler is helping his Aunt Larji in the kitchen. He knows how to open cans. Eyes the protein mash with a certain degree of caution.

"Ain't ever eaten anythin' blue before. What's it taste like?"

"Nothing much until I add some dried shrimp...this is standard fare out here, I'm afraid, Ty. Unless your uncle gets to hunting."

"Oh." He watches her measure rice. "Is that...often?"

"Not as often as we would like." She smiles at him. "You ever go hunting?"

"Granpa an' Uncle Mattie took me, before Uncle got sick."

"He do the fish thing to ya?" Jayne asks, from where he's sitting at the table. Tyler grins.

"Yeah."

"The fish thing?" Ilargia isn't sure she wants to know.

"Nothin' like wakin' up 'cos someone dropped a live fish on your belly. Pa used to do it to me all the time. 'Til I got hold of a squirrel, let it out in his tent." Jayne chuckles at the memory. "Gorram thing pissed in his boots. He din't half whallop me for that."

Tyler laughs, too. Ilargia looks at, well, she supposes, her menfolk. Such a very odd experience, seeing Jayne's expressions on another face. Tyler, helping to lay the table, fumbles a plate and blushes, by which Ilargia deduces that River has peered round the door. She's right.

"Captain requests his Security Officer to the bridge." She rephrases Mal's 'tell that gunhand to stop botherin' his wife and get up here.' Smiles at Tyler, to see if she can make him drop the plate again. Luckily, it's tin. Jayne fields it neatly.

"M'on my way. Gonna hafta get a better grip on things, boy. You lose hold of cargo lines like that, any Cap'n'll fire you."

"Yessir." Tyler mumbles. Watches River flit back up the corridor, looks down hastily as she looks back. Ilargia watches them, bites her lip. Jayne's right, Mal has the sense of an egg when it comes to women, but eventually even he's going to notice a couple of hormonal teenagers.

0000

"Why've I gotta look after him?" Jayne whines.

"'Cos he's your kin. You keep him out from under foot, 'til this job is done." Mal grins evilly. "You're gettin' old, letting a boy slip past you."

"Huh. Kid was trained to hunt by my Pa, Mal. Same man as trained me."

"That kid looks up to you, Jayne. Don't let him down."

Little flare of panic in Jayne's eyes.

"Last fool kid looked up to me died with a chestful of shot."

Mal's expression twitches for a second. Jayne ain't a soldier, the way Mal was. Never commanded men. Killed a deal, but never ordered 'em to die.

"Then you better be real careful."

Jayne nods. Scuffs.

"Weren't much older'n him, first time I shipped out."

Mal remembers a fresh-faced youth, chin jutted as he signs his life away for a Cause.

"Me, neither." Thinks. "You'd best take him through suit drill after dinner."

0000

"Jayne, darling, are you okay?"

Ilargia looks up at her husband. He's got a face on him like a wet weekend on New Melbourne.

"Mal...just reminded me of somethin' I ain't too proud of, is all." Swallows. "I reckon I told you about Higgin's Moon, din't I?"

"The place with the...song?"

"Yeah." Looks away. "I don't want Tyler gettin' hurt on account of he thinks his Uncle is some kind of gorram hero. M'good with my fists, an' there ain't a better shot on this boat, but I ain't no ways special. Just a hired gun, is all."

"Jayne," she slaps his chest lightly to get his attention, "I expect that kind of navel gazing from Simon, not you. So you listen. You're a good man. You aren't going to let anything happen to that kid. And neither is anyone else on this boat."

"They're gonna tell him..." Drops to a shamed mumble.

Ilargia isn't used to Jayne having self-doubts. The man is a human battering-ram, charging through life, living in the now. It's part of what she loves about him. To see him so worried hurts her.

"Tell him what?"

"That I ain't worth lookin' up to."

"Why not? He's grown up with tales of you flying round the stars, engaging in exciting gun battles. And I don't think anyone is going to land you in trouble for the hell of it." She grins. "Even the Doc."

But Jayne looks at her with haunted eyes.

"He got every right to, _bao bei._ I ain't done right by him or his sister in the past."

"That was the past. We're all one crew now." And I think River has other things on her mind, she thinks, but does not add.

0000

Simon looks out of the Infirmary in response to a clatter and a thump. It's just Tyler, failing to navigate the corner of the table with his kitbag.

"Oh, I'm real sorry, sir, din't mean to disturb you."

"It's nothing." Simon retrieves a couple of books before large feet descend on them. "How are you settling in?"

Tyler is a little in awe of the Doctor. Has the same kinda scrubbed rich look he associates with Uncle Cal, but real clever with it.

"M'doing fine, sir..."

Kaylee pops her head out of a room.

"You can have this room, Tyler. Just gotta find you another blanket, is all."

"Got one." River trots past, carrying something that looks suspiciously like Simon's quilt. Simon sighs.

"Unless you want to find yourself made up into the bed, I would stand here for a moment."

Tyler, still a little unsure, ventures a grin. Doctor don't seem too uppity, an' he's younger than Tyler thought. Reckons he won't get clouted if he asks a question.

"What's it like, crewin' with my Uncle?"

Simon considers. He has the opportunity to tell this boy exactly what a mean, untrustworthy, sack of trouble Jayne is. So he's quite surprised to hear himself say,

"We're lucky to have him. A very handy man in a fight."

"My Ma always says there's nobody as can fight like my Uncle Jayne."

"He gets plenty of practice."

Jayne ducks back in the stairwell, says a short thank-you to whoever is surely lookin' over him. He might even be nice to the Doc...Clatters his boots some.

"Larji says dinner is ready."


	7. Chapter 7

Tyler is still too excited with it all to sleep.

It had felt like a home round that big table. Even the blue things din't taste too bad, once Aunt Larji'd made little patties of 'em, and covered them in sauce.

Then Uncle Jayne had taken him through wearin' a spacesuit. He'd near suffocated himself through not connecting the airlines right, an' Uncle had laughed, made him do it again. Told him if he was real lucky, Cap'n might let him do a walk outside.

"We really goin' into the Belt?"

"Goin' to the edge of it. Won't be goin' in less River has a crazy turn."

Tyler thinks on the pretty dark eyes, flushes a little.

"She's awful young to be a pilot, ain't she?"

"You're awful young to be totin' about, too, boy." Jayne grins. "You got lucky Cap'n din't just tip you out the airlock, stowin' away. Some ships, they'd haul off an' sell you someplace."

"Could try." Tyler bunches his fists. "Anyways, I'm old enough to do a man's job, now."

"Heh. Should be in school."

Tyler mumbles. Jayne is on it in a flash.

"You done what?"

"I quit school. It don't put food on the table."

An' there ain't a thing Uncle can really say to that, hearin' his own words flung back at him. Ain't no secret in the family that it was Jayne kept meat on the table when Granpa was workin' all shifts to pay the doctor's bills for Granma and Aunt Em.

Uncle Jayne has always been a kinda hero to him. Ma has a deal of stories about her big brother. Tyler ain't dumb; he figured out that the jobs ain't always legal, but the credits as come home are real enough. Got Uncle Mattie up from his sickbed, an' able to work again. Paid for a set of pants as hadn't been worn by three cousins before for Tyler himself (an' when you go to school each day with kids as make fun, that means a deal.) Ma's proud, though; she won't go askin' for handouts, 'cos that makes Aunt Em turn her nose up and talk out the side of her mouth about stuff. 'Stead, she tells her folks she's fine, an' goes an' scrubs floors. Thought makes Tyler bunch his fists. He likes his new Aunt - she gave him a second plate of dinner without his askin', just smiled an' told him he was like his uncle. He knows that Ma gives him half her dinner some nights, an' pretends she ain't hungry...Well, he got himself a gun, now, and he can prove to his uncle an' the Captain that's he's useful.

Thinkin' about dinner makes him realise that he's hungry again, so he goes padding out in search of something.

0000

Mal pushes back from the controls, rubs his eyes. They are holding position a ways out at present, since they still need to get a fix on the position of the crate relative to where they are, minus any really big rocks as might be around. Give them all a night's sleep, while he tries to factor in their young problem.

The young problem ain't hard to find. Tyler has made himself a sandwich - ends of everything, and lurid sauce dripping out of the unwieldy handful. Chokes on his mouthful when he spies Mal, which ain't pleasant to see.

"Cap'n, I'm real sorry..."

"Long as you ain't eaten all my pickles, it's shiny."

Tyler looks stricken.

"I din't realise this all belonged to folk. Uncle Jayne said I could get stuff if I was wantin'..."

Mal is startled to realise that the kid's proper upset.

"Oh, hey, I was joking, Tyler. You carry on." He ain't real hungry, but he finds himself a couple of cookies he stashed where Jayne couldn't get 'em, sits at the table with his coffee. Tyler, vaguely reassured, wolfs into his horrible concoction, and Mal tries not to wince. Guesses constant eating is a Cobb thing.

The last of the heartburn special disappears, and Tyler wipes his mouth happily. Mal remembers training kids this age. Kids like Bendis, Li, Monroe...You think the 'Verse is one big adventure. Some of 'em never got to find out different.

It don't take much to get the kid to talk, after all. Sergeant Reynolds was always good with his troops...

"Ma never says, but I know she don't have it easy 'cos of me. I bin a shame to her."

Mal eyes the boy.

"I grew up without my father around, too." He says mildly. "My Ma raised me on a ranch, planet called Shadow." Strange, last person he done told anything like that to was that grifting _yao nu_. Tyler gives him a sidelong glance from under the dark curls.

"Just you and your Ma?"

"Yeah." And forty hands. But the lad doesn't need that. "Felt like I had to be the man of the house."

"S'why I want to be like Uncle. Big and tough, an' then I can earn enough so Ma won't hafta do three jobs an' all." Shuts his mouth tight.

"Reckon I can get behind that notion." Mal waits a beat. "You know what your uncle actually does?"

"Takes care of the folks on the ship." Tyler says promptly. "Got some real good guns, and some real sharp knives, and if that don't work, he's got boots and fists."

Mal blinks.

"Right." It's a good description of Jayne's job, in earnest. "It ain't all fightin' and such, though. Sometimes we just float on through the Black, carrying stuff to folks as need it. An' this job, we're just going to find something someone lost."

"Oh, Deadwood sends out a deal of salvage crews." Slides his eyes sideways. "Sometimes they salvage stuff folks don't know they've lost."

"We know the owner of this salvage. An' he knows us."

"You botherin' the Captain, Ty?" Jayne, looking interestingly rumpled, strolls into the kitchen.

"We was talkin', is all." Mal grins. "Don't think you'll find much of the left overs left over."

"Gorram." Jayne settles for pouring something noxious on some cold rice, and settles himself, with a cracking yawn. That sets Tyler off, too. "G'wan off to bed, boy. Need to be fresh if you want to try hacking the Black tomorrow."

Tyler ducks his head, and scampers. Mal looks after him.

"He's a good kid."

Jayne snorts.

"Young idiot done quit school. Reckons he can make it out here."

"Thought you was his age when you shipped out?"

"Time I was his age, I'd been working the Yards a year or two."

"Kid needs to find his feet, is all."

Jayne's done some uncomfortable math, and reckoned out that he is the same age now as his Pa was, when Jayne decided to kick up. An' he knows exactly how much trouble a seventeen year old hothead can get into.

"Mal..." Clears his throat. "Gorram, I...I don't want to see him gettin' hurt, is all."

"Oh, _bi zui, _you thick-headed piece of dung." So it isn't the confident voice of command; this is Jayne he's talking to. "I trust you to keep those you care about alive."

They both pause, and busy themselves looking elsewhere for a moment. They don't do feelings; ain't manly. Mal clears his throat.

"You really gonna take him for a spacewalk?" Slides his eyes sideways. "Sick as a dog first time I done EVA."

"That didn't bother me none." Closes his mouth tight a moment, then, "Ruined a pair of boots over the first man I killed, though. Blind drunk for two days after."

"Well, we ain't got booze to waste." Mal pushes back from the table. "And anyways, I don't intend for there to be shootin' on this job."

Jayne tilts an eye at him.

"We done had this go-round before, ain't we?"

"We're picking up some salvage. Ain't nobody else out here."

0000

Tyler follows Jayne around like a large puppy. Even Zoe hides a smile at the sight of the two earnest faces, as Jayne shows the youngster how to clean a gun. Big man is gruff and growling, Tyler matching his frown, all concentration.

"I can handle a gun."

"Shootin' folks is different to shootin' rabbits, boy."

Sights down Tyler's rifle, and badly scares Mal, just walking in.

"Gah!" Recovers. "Jayne, we done talked about this. No pointin' firearms at the Captain."

"Only way I'd hit you was if I was aimin' sideways." Jayne scoffs. "Where'd you get this piece of _fei wu_?"

"Man at the Cat sold it me."

"You was at the Cat?" Jayne blinks. "Young devil...well, you was robbed, boy."

Mal comes over, sights down it, too.

"That's gonna pull way to the left."

The discussion becomes bewilderingly technical. And eventually, Jayne huffs, slides a small pistol over the table.

"Never got round to namin' this one, so I guess she don't sit so well with me. You see if she does better with you." He's gruff, waves away the stumbling thanks. "Man needs a gun as won't let him down."

Tyler all but cuddles the thing, fussing about with the holster to check it sits right.

"What's going on?" Kaylee asks Ilargia.

"The boys are talking out of their arsenals again." She raises her voice. "Could we put the deathsticks away, please?"

"She always this bossy?" Tyler whispers to his uncle.

"Oh, yeah. Ship's full of bossy women." Jayne is still clearing the guns away. "But you don't ever go upsettin' the folks as is round your food."

"Ma says they take turns to spit in the soup if a customer bugs 'em."

"Sounds like Jo...you take them small arms, boy, and we'll rack 'em properly..."

They can still hear him imparting advice as the two of them head off down the corridor, Tyler doing a fair job of emulating Jayne's swagger.

"When you're dirtside, you can kick back, raise hell, but when you're workin', you focus. Cap'n tells you to do somethin', you pay mind to him. Man pays your wages..."

The 'Verse according to Jayne Cobb.

"Jayne as a role model?" Simon shakes his head.

"Boy wants to make it in the 'Verse, he needs to be tough. An' there ain't nobody does tough like Jayne." Zoe smiles.

"That is true." The Doctor sighs. "Because what we really really need is another one of him."

Ilargia looks serious for a moment.

"There's a whole family of them, you know. Decent people."

"An' he's the black sheep." Mal sniggers.

"He's one of the breadwinners." She doesn't like people being rude about her husband. "Picking up a gun was his only option, Captain. Do you want to tell me that you've never been in a similar place?"

One of Gia's little grizwolds. She chucks 'em into conversations sometimes. 'Cos she's tucked in the kitchen, or cuddling up to Jayne, and never tries to take part in any of the planning sessions, they sometimes forget that there is a very sharp mind behind those very observant eyes. Mal bows his head in apology.

"Guess I got no call to be jeering." He sighs. "Must admit, I was kinda surprised by Deadwood."

"The lack of swamps and caves?"

"You bin talkin' to the Doc."

Ilargia remembers the sight of her husband, pouting over a basket of groceries. If she tells them that Jayne went shopping with his mother, the torment will never cease.

"It was a surprise to me, as well." She admits. "Did you see much of it?"

"Saw the main part of town, went down to Chinatown. Had some mighty fine _dim sum,_ too. Not that yours ain't fine." He adds, hastily.

"We had barbeque."

"Ooh." Mal sighs. "Mebbe we should all have stopped by." Grins. "How'd you get on with Jayne's Ma?"

"Better than I expected to." She grins back at him. "If you had stopped by, she would probably have tried to fix you up with a spare cousin. It's a big family. You're just lucky we had a small shuttle, or you could have had a horde of Cobblets, all mad for adventure."

"Any more like him, an' we'll be out of rations."

0000

"How'd you get a girl to fall for you?"

Jayne smirks. Ain't that many girls about. Li'l crazy has an admirer.

"She like you?"

"Dunno."

"Well, findin' that out allus helps." Pauses in racking his pistols. "Else you might get a ding round the ear."

0000

It just so happens that River and Kaylee have found something important to do in the back of the cargo bay. They aren't sure what, but Kaylee's confident of her ability to make something convincing up.

Tyler is trying out Jayne's weight bench, acutely aware of his audience.

"Don't go pullin' your muscles tryin' to impress." Jayne hisses. "Lotta reps to pump up an' get a sweat on." Catches the bar one-handed as Tyler nearly drops it. "An' killin' yourself won't help, neither."

"You think he's cute, don't you?" Kaylee is innocently amused by it, happy that her friend is doing something normal. River feigns indifference, but her eyes shift back.

"Just a boy." Wrinkles her nose. "Muscles and no brain."

"'Tain't always a bad thing." Kaylee nudges her. "Jayne always says Gia's smart enough for the two of them. An' you're plenty smart."

"Yes." River acknowledges that. Then looks worried. "Too smart?" She hazards.

"Don't think he's lookin' at your brain." Kaylee nudges her again. "He's definitely lookin'."

"Huh." River tosses her head, then slides her eyes sideways. "I..." Gaze sharpens. "We're there."


	8. Chapter 8

The Scrap Belt. A terra-forming event gone awry, a whole planet split asunder and drifting, the rock and rubble held in a gravitational field too weak to draw them together, but too strong to release them completely. Dense, shifting danger - sometimes a larger asteroid will break free, spat loose by the force, or the shifting elements will exert a pull, attract passing and unwary ships to wreck. What no simulation can convey is the speed and the violence, the silent savagery of rocks the size of continents colliding, calving islands and shoals of debris, the vertiginous spin of the starscape.

Mal closes his eyes briefly. River seems unbothered, matching her screen to the reality before her with deft adjustments.

"Can't fly too close, or the mass will pull us in. Need to wait for the object to pass beneath us."

"And how are we going to venture into that?" The extra shielding will take small hits. But there's rocks twice the size of _Serenity_ going by. Already, small fragments are pinging off the hull, nothing big enough to dent. He understands why the large mesh panels were fitted over the windows now.

"Hold position, and lower the anchor." She grins. "Jayne is a big fat maggot. Put him on a hook."

_Serenity_ will have to match the course of the asteroid, dipping low as the 'current' brings it to the surface, and snatching the crate before the rock gets pulled back down into the flow. There will be a fair amount of small debris to avoid, so they will need to sweep very low, and use the bulk of the ship to shield them.

It will take nerves of steel and a cool head to fly them that close and hold them there. Mal would have let Wash do it without a second's halt, but he can't help but worry a little...River's grin fades.

"Can do this, Captain."

"Ain't ever tried it before, is all."

"Trust me." She says in a small voice.

"Every time we fly, li'l darlin'." Mal finds a smile for her, which fades a little as he looks back at the Belt.

Gonna take more than nerves of steel to get lowered into that.

0000

"Why does it have to be you?" Ilargia asks.

"Huh?"

"They open up the belly of the ship over a mass of pointy, grinding hell, why does it have to be you they drop into it?"

Jayne grins.

"'Cos I done it before, _bao bei_. All I gotta do is winch down and put a hook on. Don't hafta let go or nothin'. I done landed on a moving train one time. Can't be harder'n that."

Ilargia looks at him, shakes her head. Then she reaches out, grabs a handful of t-shirt.

"Well, if you're going to put this body into danger, we'd best make some good use of it until then."

Jayne smirks. Woman has a firm grasp of essentials. He got no problem with doin' the job, but if Larji wants to reward him for it in advance, he's ready and willin'...

0000

"Where'n hell is Jayne?" Mal is ready to go. Zoe, who has a fair idea, gives him a tired look.

They are suited up, ready with the winch. The cargo bay is going to be isolated, so they can open the doors. Kaylee and Simon are in the engine room, ready to move on River's command. And River is in the pilot's chair. All that's missing is the man on the end of the line.

Of course, Jayne strolls in then, helmet under his arm, grinning like a fiend.

"We ready to go?"

"We bin ready a while..." But Mal isn't going to start shouting. This is gonna be a dangerous job; they need to be focused.

Jayne's grin slips a mite when he looks down out of the bay. But his expression becomes that cold, remote look that means he's doing the job. Wraps the heavy tow-cable around his arm, and signals the go.

There's enough mass beneath him to exert a pull, and he drops, rather than floats. Steady burn from the main engine, small bursts from the thrusters swing the ship above him. He can see the target beneath him, turning to the surface, meagre light on the edges of it...

Drones go from A to B, unless someone hacks the flight computer, diverts them to C. However, getting to C presupposes that the flight will not intersect with anything going from D to E at mind-buggering speed. In which case, both parties are...F'd.

The ore drone is easy to spot, a cylinder of dull metal, nothing more than a crate with an engine, ploughed into the rock. However, there is something else. A slender needle of silver angled into it.

Jayne swears.

"Mal, we got a big damn problem down here..."

Mal rappels down the line with another cable, turns himself to look at what they've caught.

"We ain't got time to work things free. Gonna have to go with the lifting power of the ship."

Small rocks are battering past them even now, and a fist-sized one clips off the crate, makes them both duck.

"Might be a fine idea we do that soon. I ain't keen on gettin' perforated." Jayne is working fast, attaching the tow-cable to the lifting handles of the crate.

"Hold on to something." River says. "It's going to be a bumpy ride."

Need to readjust the calculations to account for extra weight...She's a storm of energy, eyes on the screens, hands on the controls. She loves this ship. The thrusters fire, short bursts, keeping her steady, lining her up for the big pull...

Mal and Jayne both flatten themselves against the side of the crate, take what cover they can, as the cables tighten. The rockstorm is getting worse, and the small asteroid they are on is pulling away, turning itself purposefully.

"Soon would be good, River."

Through the suits, they can feel the grinding of metal under pressure, feel the thrum of the cables, as the engines fight. Then, suddenly, they are free, and _Serenity _soars. Mal turns his head, in time to see their recently vacated rock bounce off another and disappear into the maelstrom.

"Well, that was fun." He remarks.

0000

They decide to open the big doors and haul the whole thing in, in the end.

"First time I shipped out was with a salvage crew. S'why I got a top line construction suit, 'stead of a military issue piece of _go se_. You lose your line and go floatin', you want to get seen." Jayne taps the yellow fabric. "Got this with my second wage packet."

Tyler stands on the edge of the airlock, swallows hard. Next to him, Jayne can hear the kid's breathing speed up as the hatch begins to open. Puts a hand on his shoulder.

"You got your line clipped?"

"Yessir."

"Then go to it."

A shove, and Tyler is spinning out on the end of the tether.

(Up on the bridge, River winces.

"Tyler's going to be sick." She reaches for the comm.)

No up, no down. Nothin' to put his feet against, just a moving background of white specks on black, and the side of the ship spinning past...

"Close your eyes." A voice says in his ear. River. He does. "Now, take a deep breath through your nose."

"I got him." His uncle's voice. And the spinning stops as two large hands grab his shoulders. "Keep breathin', boy."

Jayne tows him back, shows him how to put his boots on the ships' hull. And with _Serenity _beneath his feet, Tyler gawps happily at the stars, the desire to throw up forgotten.

"It's real pretty..." Turns his head, looks at his uncle. "Lost my Pa out there, some place, din't I?"

"So your Ma says." Jayne snorts. "He weren't much of a loss."

"I know." But Tyler hangs his head. "He din't want me, did he?"

"No." Jayne don't see any point in soft-soapin'. 'Verse is a tough place. "But you got a deal of kin as do want you."

"Ain't like havin' a Pa of your own, though." Brightens. "Still, better'n havin' one as hits you or somethin'."

"Or one that would ignore your cry for help." River's voice makes them both jump.

"You listenin' in on folks again, li'l moon...beam?" Jayne growls.

"Have to monitor the comm." River lies quickly. She knows that Jayne is grinning. "Think it's real pretty out there, too."

"When you've all quite finished admirin' the stars," Mal's voice breaks in, "Could you maybe see your way clear to actually giving us a hand, Jayne?"

"We're on it."

There's no denying, another pair of hands make the job easier. Tyler don't have his full growth or strength, but he's plenty strong enough to take a corner of the crate. He's a lot less clumsy without gravity to bother him.

Doors shut, gravity and oxygen restored, and the rest of the crew can come and take a look at their catch. The little craft is barely more than a cockpit, one slim wing and engine buried within the crate, the other lost, swept away. It looks fast, just sitting on the deck. And it don't look like anything they've seen before.

"That is one shiny piece of engineerin'." Mal looks to Kaylee, who looks like her Christmas come early.

"Can I take a look at the engines, Cap'n?" Girls's positively skippin' to get greasy.

River is stroking the lines of the ship.

"So pretty." She breathes. "Could dance with the sun..."

Mal has a sudden troubling vision of River in this thing...he wants it off his boat. Yesterday.

"Ship didn't work." River says quietly. "Going to bury the key in a garden, safe with the angels." Shudders back from the chasm of darkness. Suddenly, there is a strong, warm arm round her.

"Best not touch that, 'case there's sharp edges." Tyler is so very earnest. Mal almost laughs, at the idea of protecting River from anything, but she smiles up at the idiot boy, steps back.

Bernoulli's crates are mostly undamaged. The same can't be said for the pilot of the other ship.

"With the drone's navbeacon scrambled, he wouldn't have been able to avoid it if he was flying that fast. Wouldn't have known it was there, until it parked in his ear." Zoe remarks.

"Wonder who he was?" Kaylee asks softly.

"God knows." Tyler says it simply, a statement of fact. "Get 'em in the junkers sometimes, poor souls as didn't make it clear. We take 'em to the Garden, and Pastor says words for 'em. Don't matter if we don't know their names, the Lord does." He stops, suddenly embarrassed by their regard.

"The Garden?"

"S'what folks on Deadwood call the stranger's cemetery." Jayne shifts, too. "Never seemed right to just bury 'em without a marker."

"He was brave, whoever he was."

"And crazier than a sack of snakes."

"Test pilots usually are."

Something else occurs to Mal.

"This is a short-range vessel. So where'd it come from?" That changes the mood.

0000

The _Columbus_ is a military craft, true, but it is an R&D vessel. The closest Captain Treutlen has ever been to combat is the firing range. His First Officer Upson holds rank by virtue of his academic qualifications. The vacuum left by the Miranda Incident had caused some rapid advancement; men who had foreseen nothing in their futures but desk jobs were suddenly finding themselves thrust out into the field. Entrusted with the testing of an important prototype. A very expensive important prototype.

And they've lost it.

"Define...lost."

"Temporarily misplaced."

This is the sort of thing that can halt a man's career. Possibly with the kind of nosebleed that starts in your eyeballs.

"We aren't cleared to be in that sector, Upson."

"The last trace of the engine transmission was headed in that direction, sir."

They look at each other. In both minds, the thought of going back and explaining that they have...misplaced Project Daedalus.

"Take a bearing on that heading, and proceed."


	9. Chapter 9

Takes them a while to separate the two craft. Means that Tyler gets an impromptu lesson with the cutting torch, too. Jayne's taking his role as guardian and instructor right serious. Impact has buckled the cargo-hatch to the point where they need a can-opener rather than a keypad.

River has found herself a perch up on the walkway, and Mal ain't sure whether she's watching the ship or Tyler. He's a little twitched. Got kinda used to the fact that when he's flying, his li'l co-pilot will be curled in the other seat. Been a few nights when she's gone to sleep there. But now, when he needs her good and focused, she's sittin' down in the cargo hold makin' eyes at some boy...

Zoe and Ilargia are moving and stowing what they can of the cargo. Kaylee is already earmarking parts from the drone, but her eyes keep straying back to the shiny heap of trouble they got.

Mal decides to get the pilot out of the ship. The warmth of the cargo bay is beginning to have an effect, and whilst half the crew are no stranger to bodies, the other half are looking a little green. The Doctor swallows a little, but climbs nimbly up to do his duty. Leaves Mal free to supervise. Still an odd sight, a smaller version of his mercenary, barely old enough to shave, and still flushing every time he uses a cuss-word.

"Captain." Simon has an odd tone to his voice. "I think you should look at this."

Mal cranes over. The body ain't pretty. The whole dome of the cockpit has gone, and the pilot looks exactly like somebody who has been rapidly decompressed, flash-frozen and then sat out in a rockstorm. Male is about as identifiable as it gets. The Doctor points to the back of the head, where it...he still rests against his chair. Mal looks again. More than rests. There are cables.

"I think he was dead before he crashed. This man has...had - cerebral implants of some kind, and they are all...burnt out."

"Took a trip, and blew his mind." River says, from above. Clarifies. "Bio-electrical feedback cauterized his synapses."

"Captain, I would advise pushing the whole thing back out of the ship and getting a long way away from it."

"I'm inclined to agree, Doctor." Mal looks at the body. "And this man?"

"We leave him in it." It costs Simon something to say that, Mal knows. This was a human being. But there's a stink coming off this thing from more than the corpse, says 'military' to both of them.

"They wired him into the ship, didn't they? Like a VR Simulator." Ilargia has walked up behind them, makes them both jump.

She's standing back, arms folded, an abstracted look on her face.

"I've got a...friend called Gib, used to claim he got signals through his radio, conspiracy theories and such." Mal and Simon exchange a look. She catches it. "Yeah, I thought he was a nut, too, until Jayne told me about Mr Universe. Well, one theory was a black op, taking the brains of captured Independent pilots and putting them in stealth ships." Gestures. "Wind down the weird a ways, and I think we're looking at the origin of that."

"This was precision work. There's nothing experimental about the surgery, only the usage." Simon examines the body more closely, fingers careful, competent. "They diverted the neural impulses used for certain motor functions. It's an advanced form of the technology used in prosthetic limbs."

"A ship that flies by thought?" Mal snorts. "That's..." Looks at River. "Huh."

"This is a high-end military application." Ilargia is still frowning. "They don't normally test outside of the Kuang Zone."

"That's dead space, nothing but blackrock."

"That's the reason." It's a mirthless smile. She looks again at the pilot, then looks away hastily. "Poor sod is a very long way from home."

"Reckon someone will come looking for him?"

"Bound to. Grunts are cheap, but his shiny little rocket cost someone some credits. As you said, Captain, it's a short-range craft. I'm with the Doctor on dropping it out the hatch again."

"Ain't no way for a man to pass on." Jayne rumbles uneasily. He's conscious of Tyler's eyes on him. You don't leave the dead to drift; it ain't right.

"This ain't a package we want to be caught holdin'." Mal flicks his eyes up to where River is hanging over the rail. Jayne sighs.

"I know it. Guess I'd better get suited..."

"Too late." River stiffens, her face confused. "Being followed."

She turns and heads up the stairs at a pace that makes Tyler stare.

0000

They know their business, hanging back on the very edge of the scope, matching course and speed. Staying out of the way of the Belt. Too small to be anything official, but big enough to be worrisome.

"Reckon that's another crew after this haul?" Zoe asks.

"May be so." Almost certain to be, in fact. This is so far off what remains of Reaver space, that no-one doubts that the minds on that ship are sane, if probably unpleasant.

Ship has realised that it's been seen. Speeds itself between _Serenity_ and open space, leaves them pinned above the Belt. Ugly, blocky thing, but fast, and there is a cannon mounted on the hull. It swings round with clear intent, and the comm chirps.

It's not a face Mal is pleased to be seeing. Clean-shaven, narrow eyed, bald skull patterned by the comm lights. Tattoos on his jawline move unpleasantly when he smiles, showing a gold tooth in place of the one Mal knocked out.

"Ott."

"Mal. How like old times. You do the work, and I reap the reward. I want that cargo."

On the tip of Mal's tongue to ask which one, but he keeps silent.

"I bested you last time, Mal. You will keep backing yourself into a corner."

"Got nothing on this ship worth a quarrel..."

"Oh, this isn't a quarrel, Mal." The smile snaps off. "It's an execution. I just wanted you to know who was shooting you out of the sky."

"Captain..." A quiet moment, dark eyes meet blue. "Trust me."

"We're in your hands, li'l darlin'."

Only one place for them to go.

"Kaylee, engine room. Take whoever is helpful. Rest of you, strap in tight."

"Sir," Zoe takes a breath. "Can she do this?"

Mal's jaw tightens.

"You best pray that she can, or you're gonna be meeting your man real soon."

'Cos if Wash was here, she'd be behind his chair, willing him on, and they'd be home free. If Wash was here, she wouldn't be trusting to a half-grown child with a broken mind. A child who can walk into your mind.

River's eyes, dark and fearful, and full of pain.

"Don't want to be him, Zoe. Want him to be here, but he's not. Just me."

He ain't here. He's left pieces of himself, reminders and memories. Memories...

Zoe steps right up, puts her hand on River's shoulder.

"You fly, baby."

Strength and belief. Flowing down that arm like fire in the blood.

Whole place is a gorram mincer, gonna be tight to fly...but my girl will keep us safe...engines ain't designed to take that kinda thrust...nobody flies like my mister...

Connect.

Synergy. Knocks down the walls between, spins fragments of time into a cable that binds past and present.

She can see all four dimensions before her eyes, input fast and raging, but hands hold her in place. Their thoughts race past her and she dips into them, River become river, torrent of memory and experience. Through them, she sees the Belt as it is, as it was, the engines and how they turn, glimpses of hands not hers on these controls, what happens if you push this button, flip this switch, and spin the wheel. Takes what she needs, and becomes.

Wind catches the drifting leaf, spins it into a dance of joy between the stars...

Albatross stretches wings and catches a current of time...

_Serenity_ obeys.

Port engine off-line, starboard engine fires down. Under her hands, _Serenity_ is a living thing. Flips end over, and dives backwards, sharp left.

Has the gunner's mind now, a sharp cruel mind of angles and blades, something that tastes of metal in the edge of it. Part woman, part machine, stitching the sky behind them. But _Serenity_ is too fast, too free...

There is no sound here. Nothing but objects in space, and she moves between them. She dances with them, time somehow suspended as the 'Verse unfolds itself before her. This is what that poor soul within the wetware sought. Speed and freedom, and that state of absolute calm as the spirit of the ship moves within you. Can't be found with wires and needles, only with love...

_Serenity _bursts out of the debris field. Every proximity alarm screams, calm announcements in English and Chinese drowned out by yells and curses in the same. Too fast, too close to bring the cannon to bear, shot raking empty space. And the whirlwind passage brings a comet's tail of debris with it.

Ott's ship has none of the extra shielding. The last they see of it, is the craft tumbling away, leaking parts and oxygen, desperately trying to evade the rest of the rubble.

River slips out of the chair, a huddle of bones. Mal catches the yoke, and swears madly, unable to let _Serenity_ veer out of control, and unable to get to River.

"River...River! Zoe, is she breathing?"

"She is." His First Mate hits the comm. "Doctor, we need you up here. River's fainted."

"No need to fuss." River says weakly, struggles to sit up. Holds her head. "Oooh. Too many voices all at once."

She's never tried to do that before. She can feel them in her head, concern and confusion, but she can feel herself in there, too. Greets Simon with a slightly cross-eyed smile as he comes hammering in.

"Frying pan dealt with. Just the fire, now."

0000

Mal leans on the table, regards his crew. They all know that they have a cargo-bay full of bad news. But then, that's pretty much a given in their line of business.

"Reckon Bernoulli set us up, sir?" Zoe won't look at River. Still a deal to process there.

"Unlikely. We done business with him for years, and never a worry. He just sent us after a crate as didn't turn up where it should have."

"An' the reason it didn't ain't one we want hangin' round our necks."

"Can't we just drop that thing out where Ott can get it, leave him with the trouble?" Ilargia puts the suggestion forward diffidently. She's sitting next to Jayne, but perched on the edge of the group. Mal considers it.

"Could work, I'm thinking." A nasty grin. "Ain't the cargo he's expecting, I'll be bound."

"Can't just tip that poor man back out into the Black." Tyler shakes off his uncle's hand. "It ain't right."

"Son, that man volunteered to fly. He was a soldier." Mal narrows his eyes.

"Still a man. He's got kin someplace as will want to be knowing what happened to him."

"So have you." Mal lets the words fall heavily. Tyler goes white, then scarlet, pushes away from the table and stumbles out. Jayne wipes his mouth, curses uneasily, but it's Ilargia who puts a hand on his shoulder, and stops him.

"Boy needs a few minutes alone, I think."

"So..." Mal pulls their attention back. "Jayne, you get back to separating them two wrecks. Doc, we're gonna have to put our...guest in a bag for a while. Reckon you can...detach him?"

"I can try. It's not like I need anaesthetic or anything." He catches Kaylee's look. "What?"

"Dope enough, I think." Ilargia murmurs.

0000

River is deep in thought. Mal approves. Good to see that she's settling in, has a feeling for the job...

"Am I pretty?"

Mal chokes.

"What kinda question is that to go askin' me?"

"Adult. Experienced. Have a standard on which to judge." She tilts her head, and regards him, slight frown of worry.

Mal's mind has gone into a spiral of panic. Tinged with pique. So he's the responsible adult here, is he? The gorram babysitter. So, being Mal, and in charge, he does what he does best. Makes a mess of it.

"Can't rightly say I've given it any thought, li'l one."

River's frown crumples further.

"So I'm not."

"I didn't say..." Mal begins to panic.

"Just a brain, is all. Fly your ship. Your guiding star - what's of use." Shoves back from the controls. "Kaylee's right. Mean old man."

"River..."

But she's gone. Mal stares at the stars in bewilderment. They got a cargo bay full of contraband and scary-ass military _go se_, a shipful of pirates looking to give them a bad case of dead, probably a military ship the size of a small city hunting after 'em, and she's frettin' about her looks? 'Course she's pretty. Anyone with eyes is gonna think so.

That young idiot certainly thinks so. His turn to frown.


	10. Chapter 10

This time, it's Ilargia who nearly falls over a soggy little person on the stairs.

"River, sweetie, have you hurt yourself?"

"Only inside." Inelegant snuffle. "Stupid man."

There is only one person who River reserves that tone of voice for. Ilargia sits down.

"What's Captain Dummy said now?"

River shakes her head, takes the proffered hanky. Ilargia sighs. She isn't cut out to be motherly.

"Adequately parented." River tells her. "Don't need more. Got a father, however distant."

Ilargia filters that, comes up with a fair idea of what the problem is.

"I don't think this is the best time to overload his mind, sweetie." She rubs her eyes. "You did something extraordinary to get us out of our mess, didn't you?"

"Something only I could do. No choice." Lip trembles. "Why does being useful hurt so much?"

"You get too good at things, people sometimes take you for granted. Forget to say 'thank you.'"

"Like they did on Bernadette."

"Like that." Ilargia agrees calmly. "But that's my private business. And a long time past."

River looks at her.

"We all have clean clothes, now. Fresh bread. Coffee and cookies while we work. He never says 'thank you' to you, either. But I notice."

Ilargia actually blushes.

"You notice lots of things." She stands up. (Not as young as she used to be, can't sit on cold steps for too long.) River looks up at her.

"Does it get better?"

"Eventually. Hormones are crap." She tries to think of a good way of putting things. "This isn't exactly a good environment for quiet reflection."

"Only one we have." Manages a small smile. "Here and now, we are alive."

"Here's hoping we stay that way." Gives River's shoulder a comforting squeeze.

River watches her go. There's strength of a different order to Ilargia. The woman lost nearly all her possessions and almost her life a few months ago, yet she has quietly got on with the business of living. River knows she has nightmares, still, and that those nightmares are not of fire and knives, but colder and harder. She has locked her past away, and sometimes it still claws at the doors of memory, but she is strong enough to bar them. River just hopes that one day she is strong enough to open those doors, too. Secrets eat you from the inside out.

Everyone here has been shaped by their past, and not into what they might have once hoped. Even the sad, bewildered mind she can sense. Dived into an adventure, but now the past weighs on him. A series of very complex emotions flit across River's face.

She's a genius, and a weapon, and a reader. She is also a seventeen year old girl, and not immune to...curiosity.

0000

The next while is a little tense. They ain't sure if Ott is well gone; the ship was damaged, but moving, and it still had that bigass gun on it. Stopping don't seem like a good option. Mal needs Zoe on the scope to check they ain't got more company, and Jayne, Kaylee and Simon are dismantling their various 'projects'. No-one has time to spare for sulking teens. Even Ilargia is kept busy; it doesn't take much training to move and stack the small crates from the drone, but it does take a degree of organization to keep track of what's in them, and if any of it is likely to leak, smell or explode. It's a routine she used to be very familiar with, and she falls back into the pattern easily enough.

Jayne watches her, as she chats absently to Kaylee, a trim, bossy little figure with a clipboard, and memory takes him back to their first meeting. They've all come a long way in a few months. He grins. An' he ain't complainin', neither. Reckons if he can get Mal to watch on Tyler for the evening, he's gonna get that smile back on her face. Something about escaping from things makes him just wanna...As if she catches that thought, she turns and looks at him, that slight smile and wicked eyes that make him know that he would do anything for her, anything to keep her.

"Done all I can here, and I calculate that we're due for another meal sometime soon." Stretches out her back in a way makes Jayne nearly slip the cutting-torch.

0000

Tyler slouches sadly down, unaware that he has chosen one of Jayne's favourite brooding steps. (Jayne having far less need of it, nowadays.) The fun is wearing off a little now, and he's beginning to feel guilty. Ma is gonna be fretting herself sick. Near falls off the step when River ghosts up out of the shadows and peers up at him.

"You're sad." A statement, not a question. But it ain't accusing.

"I miss my Ma." Tyler admits. This little princess girl won't laugh at him.

"Miss mine, too, sometimes." River says. Edges a fraction closer. "Family is important."

She senses Tyler's apprehension. He's gone all odd and tense. Scared of her. She stops. Tyler scuffs his feet. River waits, sadly. Then, he looks up.

"I ain't ever seen anyone fly like you." Tyler blurts out. He isn't scared of her because she's a weapon; he's just seventeen and hopeless. (Not that they get any smarter over thirty, she reminds herself.) "You was...Ms River, you was perfect."

River feels her cheeks heat up, and a silly smile on her face. He's even more incoherent than the Captain, which is saying something. Tyler, encouraged by the fact that she hasn't laughed at him, edges nearer.

River looks at him. He's a bit clumsy, but the big hands look gentle. There is nothing in his mind but admiration and a wistful hope. She likes the way he looks up, all shy, with that smile. Likes blue eyes on a man. Finds an urge to smooth those dark curls down, see if that hint of stubble scratches...

Tilts her head, an invitation, and smiles.

0000

Simon pulls the zip on the body-bag, and stretches out himself. It had been curiously absorbing to go back to a medical exercise. Not a great deal different to some of the crash victims he had dealt with back on Osiris. The surgery on the man had been neat, practical, and, apart from its usage, rather routine. Simon himself had done similar cerebral connections for a man who had lost an arm, and a colleague of his, what was her name, Nadia something, she had specialised in the cerebral implants for the partially sighted. He can't even be too revolted by it; the surgery has been expertly handled, with a definite purpose, unlike the experimental butchery on his sister. Without the cables jacked into his skull, this man would have probably looked and functioned like any normal person. Except for the sockets pitting his skull. But thinking of his sister brings him guiltily back to the present, and he looks around.

"Where's River?"

"Prob'ly talking to Tyler." Kaylee carefully places another small, oily something in her pile of treasures. "Reckon he's a mite homesick."

Jayne sniggers.

"Don't think you got a worry there, Doc. Tyler thinks she's the sweetest li'l morsel..."

A beat, and they are both scrambling.

"You left my sister alone with him?"

"Ain't your sister I'm fretted for. How'm I gonna tell my sister her boy done got his head ripped off by a crazy girl?"

But nobody is ripping anyone's head off. Tyler and River spring apart, hastily. Then it all gets very loud.

0000

Simon and River are having a proper row. Not doctor and prodigy, but big brother and bratty little sister, shouting at each other.

"...not a child any more, you _bai chi_!" floats up the stairs, shrill.

"You're a _xue xing _nuisance..." Simon's voice, no longer the cool moderated tones of a professional.

"What in the sphincter of hell are you two screamin' about?" Mal bellows.

0000

Mal wants to hit something. He can't figure it. River ain't a babe in arms, an' she can surely deal with folks as bother her. ('Cept she weren't fightin' Tyler off...)

Can't yell at the boy. He ain't crew. Can't yell at River. She ain't right. An' what would he say? Don't go kissin' boys? That's Simon's job to do. An' Jayne has hauled off the youth. They can hear a muffled bellowing from here.

So he's left on the catwalk, stranded and angry, and he don't really know why.

Simon stomps up the stairs. He has a pink patch flaring on one cheek.

"Your sister is growin' up too damn fast, Doc."

"Tell me about it." Simon flails his hands a little helplessly. "Tried to tell her not to...about...well, she slapped me."

"Ain't like she's slow on the uptake." Mal remembers being seventeen. Scowls. "Ain't like our new passenger is slow, neither."

"Jayne's having words with him." The Doctor seems slightly calmer. "At least he didn't think it was amusing."

0000

"What'n hell were you thinkin'?"

"We was kissin', is all."

"You don't go jumpin' on girls..."

"She done asked me..." Tyler wails. It ain't the act of a gentleman, but he can't help it; Jayne's shakin' him til his teeth are like to come loose.

Jayne does think it's funny, then. He can't blame the lad - River's a cunning li'l thing, if a mite scrawny, an' it ain't in a man's nature to deny a pretty girl a kiss. It has got the Doc in a snit, that's for damn sure.

0000

Ilargia stares at her husband, then starts laughing.

"Oh, the poor kids. You must have embarrassed them horribly."

"Yeah." An unrepentant grin. "Left the Doc and his sis shaping up for a real screaming match." Shrugs. "Sounds right normal to me."

"Yep." Ilargia smiles at him. "Isn't it wonderful?"

"Huh?"

"He's not being careful of the damaged genius any more, he's yelling at his annoying sister. It's what she needs."

"Bein' yelled at by an uptight _pi gu_?"

"Being treated like a girl."

"Oh, she's a girl, right enough." Jayne snorts. "Tyler's walking round fair mazed. Told him to mind his manners round her."

Oh dear. Because telling a couple of young people to stay away from each other was going to work just fine. All it needed was one of the Captain's diatribes on 'shipboard romances'...She blinks, then frowns.

0000

Mal is sulking on the bridge, Simon is sulking in the infirmary, and River has vanished off somewhere. Tyler peers nervously into the kitchen area, but there's only Kaylee, sitting at the table.

"It's all my fault, ain't it?" Tyler is glum.

"Only 'cos they all flutter round like River's gonna break or something." Kaylee sighs, puts her chin in her hands. "Never had folks look after me like that."

"Well, I ain't sorry I kissed her." He's defiant. "She wanted me to."

"Oh, a _shuai _young fellow like you, bet you got all the girls after you."

He don't mind Kaylee teasin'. She reminds him of his cousin Evie. Kicks his feet a bit.

"I liked a few girls, but I ain't never had one as liked me back. Couldn't buy 'em pretty things, an' all."

"If it's just gifts they're wantin', they ain't worth a cuss." Kaylee says hotly.

0000

River knows a lot of hiding places on the ship, but Ilargia was a smuggler, and she knows most of them, too. She and Jayne run the girl to earth in the laundry room, perched up on the dryer behind the door.

"Just kissed. Too shy. Sweet, but a boy." Smile widens. "Too young for me."

"He's not a child, River."

"Can take care of myself."

"Beating him up after you've encouraged him is even less kind, young lady." Ilargia eyes her. "All you've done is get the poor lad a hiding off Jayne."

"Oh." River looks stricken. "Not the plan."

"Can't plan with people." Ilargia looks at her, then puts her hands on her hips. "River Tam, were you doing what I think you were doing?"

River hangs her head, which is answer enough.

"Oh, you silly girl." Ilargia is relieved, cross and amused in equal measure. "That was cruel. You can't play with his feelings like that. Either of them." She adds, sternly.

"Only wanted to make him notice." The big tearful eyes have less of an effect on Ilargia than they do on Jayne.

"Gonna be a lot of men will notice. Anyhow, thought you was keen on..." Her glare stops him.

"Am. But doesn't notice I'm a girl. Tyler noticed." A certain smugness.

Jayne gets it finally, frowns.

"Playin' with hearts is cruel."

"I know. Didn't mean to." River bows her head. "Was a nice kiss, though. Treated me like I might break. His fairy princess."

"Don't s'pose you got a lot of boys to play with in that fun factory you was in. You never had a boyfriend afore?"

River's smile is conspiratorial, and she is suddenly entirely a young woman.

"Not my first kiss." Looks at the ceiling. "Not all 'bad socialization' was bad."

Jayne doesn't understand that. Then, he don't understand River most of the time. She keeps smiling at them, but it's like real people, not a crazy look. So he just says,

"Don't you be tormentin' Tyler."

River shakes her head.

"Has an honest heart. Like his uncle. Not going to torment him." A defiant pout. "Might kiss him again, though, if he wants."

"I told him to mind his manners." Jayne frowns. "Anyhow, Cap'n catches you kissin' him again, he's like to throw the boy out the airlock."

River files that away on the 'success' side. Smiles.


	11. Chapter 11

Dinner is a fun meal. Not all the tension comes from the fact they have all kinds of big and bad floating around in the Black. And after dinner, River quite deliberately settles herself into the seating area, pulls out the chess board, and sets out to teach Tyler to play. Tyler, who has decided that he will do anything if River will smile at him like that again, nearly falls over the table in his eagerness to obey.

It is Ilargia's misfortune to be caught grinning at the pair. Mal glares.

"I'm glad you think it's so gorram funny. Thought you'd have some control over the boy."

She blinks, surprised at his harsh tone.

"I'm not his mother, Captain."

"Well, I'm...appointing you to the job. Don't take much more than an hour or so to cook dinner, you got plenty of time to mind a pair of kids, you can escape Jayne's clutches."

Ilargia's face goes very still.

"That's what you think of my job here? A quick hour prepping the protein? And the rest of time as Jayne's bedwarmer? If you reckon that feeding a crew of seven people on standard protein, and making it interesting, is such a sinecure, why the hell did you hire me on the crew?"

"'Cos Jayne..." Mal skids to a halt. Ilargia's eyes narrow further.

"Well, I do so like to feel...useful."

Mal misses the edge to her voice.

"Can definitely be useful, you keep that boy out from under foot, let my pilot get on with her job."

"I really don't know what she..." Bites that off. "I appreciate that this is not the easiest time for any of us, Captain, but perhaps you might care to consider that your pilot may need a bit of comfort after saving our collective skins?" Old enough and smart enough to keep her own temper in check, but he's suddenly aware of it. "You see, that's the problem with having civilians on your crew, Captain. They like stupid things, like people saying thank you."

It's a good exit line. She slaps the dishtowel into his hands, stalks to the door, straight-backed.

0000

Mal, torn between the need to be on the bridge, and the need to hover like a bad smell, paces about the corridor. Walks into Jayne, bounding up the stairs.

"I can't find Larji." Jayne grumbles. Narrows his eyes at Mal. "You piss her off?"

"Me?"

"Yeah, you. You been lookin' to slap someone down since we caught Ty an' River..." Jayne glares. "You want a fight, you take it up with me."

"Well, then, I will." Mal can yell at Jayne. "I done told you to keep an eye on that boy..."

"Mal, they was just kissing. Hell, when I was his age..."

Mal flung up both hands.

"I don't want to hear it. Need my pilot focused, is all. Not being jumped out at by your kin."

"Way I reckon it, she asked him for a kiss." Jayne watches Mal's jaw tighten. "Ty's a good kid - Jo brought him up decent. He ain't gonna do nothin' River don't want him to do."

"No, 'cos she'll tear his arm off, he tries it. You reckon on that?"

Jayne, conveniently forgetting his own earlier reaction, scowls.

"You got a mighty low opinion of my kin, Mal, an' I'm getting a mite tired of hearing it. Ain't none of us brought up with the idea that you go hurting womenfolk, _dong ma_? An' you got a mighty low opinion of River, too. She don't flip out now less'n you point her at something an' tell her to. Reckon you want to start treating that girl with a little more kindness and respect." Shakes his head in disgust, and leaves.

Mal is too startled to even think of a smart response for a good five minutes.

0000

Simon looks up at the tap on the doorframe. He's expecting Kaylee, but it's a very nervous Tyler.

"Just wanted to say that I'm sorry I kissed your sister 'thout askin' you first." Boy is scarlet, still. "Ain't gonna hurt her, swear to you, sir. She's just about the prettiest thing I ever saw, an' I'd cut my hand off sooner."

Scuttles away again. Simon blinks. Then the beginnings of an unwilling grin creep over his face, and he shakes his head.

0000

Jayne's getting worried. He's been all over the ship. And Larji ain't in either shuttle, or any of the passenger dorms. He even peeks in on River, who is sitting on her bunk and watching the door expectantly. She notes that Jayne is too worried to be more than slightly creeped out by that.

"Reckon you'll know where she is."

"Everyone wanted her to keep things running smooth. Be a good little cog. Couldn't be what everyone wanted her to be. Broke trying. Still trying to be what everyone wants here, and worries that she's not." Bends her head forward, a curtain of hair. "Captain told her to start being useful."

Even Jayne is momentarily without cussing for that.

"River, darlin', you'd be better off with Ty. Least he's knows he's an idiot sometimes. Where's my li'l peach stowed herself?"

River hops down, and leads him down the corridor.

0000

Ilargia is sitting in a small storage area, her back against a stack of Bernoulli's crates. She looks up at them with suspiciously bright eyes. Jayne settles himself down beside her. Gathers her up, even though she's stiff with tension. River tactfully withdraws (and one small hand snags up Ilargia's clipboard in passing) and Ilargia rests her head on Jayne's shoulder.

"All that sodding education, and my life is in a couple of cartons under your bunk."

"Our bunk." Jayne reminds her. "You havin' your monthlies or something, 'cos you are acting all kinds of tweaked."

"_Tien ah,_ Jayne." He can always make her laugh, even when she doesn't want to. "I had a life before this. I didn't realise I was going to end up as a glorified housekeeper and babysitter. He's right, you see. I'm no real use here..."

"You ain't paid to fly or fight." Jayne says reasonably. "An' anyone as can make some of that dried _fei wu _taste like real food has a talent you shouldn't go spitting on. Mal's just a _sha gua_."

"There is a point past which I stop making allowances for the pressures of command, and just get pissed off with him." A quick glance, and a fierce blink. "I don't have a military background."

"Well, Mal ain't good with the folks he can't give orders to." Jayne shrugs. "He got used to soldiers doing what they was told, and he ain't got his head round the fact that folks need asking, an' sometimes they ain't gonna agree with him. He an' the little man useta butt heads somethin' fierce."

"He's the Captain, this is his ship."

"Don't mean he gets to make my wife cry, just 'cos he's feeling ornery." Sighs. "I din't reckon on nursemaidin' Ty, either. Makes me feel...old."

"You?"

"Old enough to be his gorram father, _bao bei_. Hell, I'm near old enough to be li'l Kaylee's father." That makes him look a bit sick. "And you don't get old in my line of work... S'why I wanted you to meet my folks. So you got a place to go, if anything happens..."

"Jayne..." She can't find the words, kisses him hard. He wipes away a stray tear.

"Don't plan on nothin' happening yet a while, though. Got me plenty of living to do, now I got me a fine and pretty wife to come home to." Hand makes a little detour south...Ilargia squeaks, but she's laughing.

"Jayne, we're in a store-cupboard..."

"Don't feel like waiting to get to our bunk." His fierce grin. She grins back, teases him.

"Aren't you getting a little old for this behavioooh..."

"Nope."

0000

River stalks up to the bridge. Mal opens his mouth to say something, but she doesn't give him a chance. Just shoves the clipboard into his hands and stalks away again.

Mal looks at the lists. Neat inventories of everything, down to the 'mystery cans' in the bottom of the larder. All the new cargo for Bernoulli has been docketed, too. He sits down heavily. There's even a priority notifications list of essentials they are running low on. And a secondary list of luxuries, with names by them. He looks for a long time at the line, 'rem apl sc M'.

It's a neat, professional set of documentation, and it wasn't done in five minutes. This is the work of someone who took time, and (his eyes go back to that list) someone who paid attention. He swallows.

Zoe cranes and looks.

"Oh, she's finished it, then?"

"You knew about this?"

"Of course. No use having a station-grade administrator on board and expecting her not to..." Zoe trails off. "What have you done, Captain?"

Mal recounts the scene, and somehow it's very difficult to recapture the indignation with Zoe staring at him like that.

"Far as I can see, she spends all her time in the kitchen or in Jayne's bunk." Mal blusters.

"You just told the best supercargo we ever had, that she needed to make herself useful round the place? The only person on board who knows how to make those little _bao_ you like so much? Perhaps you could suggest that she might be good minding children..." Zoe trails off, at the look on Mal's face. "_Ren ci de tien ah._"

"I think we can agree that I maybe put my foot down my throat again." Mal rubs his eyes. "We got all kinds of trouble floating around out looking for us. I got no time to worry about hurt feelings."

"Well, maybe you should, sir. I find I've gotten rather used to not having my dinner burnt..." Something pings, and suddenly, she is all business again. "We got company. Reading some fuel leakage...reckon it's Ott."

"We gonna be able to out-run him?"

"Reckon we might, if Kaylee can push..." She frowns. "He's changing course, sir."

Several other things go ping, and the scope changes colour.

"That's why." Mal says heavily.

The _Columbus_ is small, as military vessels go. That is to say, it could land on Deadwood, and cover the whole of Marietta, but it probably wouldn't cause a gravitational shift by entering orbit. There is no chance of outrunning this behemoth.

The comm chirps, and the over-ride puts the message throughout the ship.

"...pson, is this thing on? It is?...Good. Oh, right, er, attention, Firefly vessel. Stand by to be, er, boarded, please."


	12. Chapter 12

Mal mouths 'Please?' to Zoe. She shrugs, non-plussed.

Rest of the crew come tumbling up onto the bridge to find out the game plan. Last up are Jayne and Ilargia. Jayne is doing his shirt up, scowls at Mal.

"You pick the worst gorram moments to go finding trouble..."

Mal stares at him. Then he looks at Ilargia. She glares back.

"Just performing one of my useful functions, Captain."

Mal winces.

"You ain't gonna let that go in a hurry, are you?"

"No." Looks out of the window. "But I'm prepared to suspend hostilities for the moment."

"Don't suppose you know these folk?" Mal asks. She takes him seriously.

"Sorry, Captain. My contacts are all admin or customs." Takes a longer, considering look. "That's a new ship, but an old design. They mothballed that class about ten years back."

River allows the usual surroundings to fade out around her, puts away the familiar feel and sound of them. Very gently, she stretches out her new senses, a tentative reaching. She's expecting a weight and clamour of minds, but finds instead vast emptiness, small knots of cognition. There are barely two hundred people aboard that leviathan. Part of her mind begins to ruthlessly devise a scheme of elimination, and she wrestles it down. Some of those minds are scared, young and unformed. They feel like Tyler. A handful are more complex, stronger. She searches for the mind in charge, follows the tendril of consciousness back to the source. A worried man, mind a jumble of concern, juggling ship and crew and mission. She knows this kind of mind, though it lacks the bleak darkness that threads through Mal when he allows himself to relax...

0000

Treutlen, who remembers when you didn't need an electronics degree to operate your own radio, prods distrustfully at the buttons some more.

"Do you think they got that, Upson?"

"I expect so, Sir." Upson, one of whose degrees is in electronics, fights the urge to bat his superior's hands away from the sensitive controls. "They seem to be stopping."

"Jolly good. I suppose if they hadn't, we'd have had to use...reasonable force."

Treutlen's quite grateful that the other ship seems to have seen sense. For a start, he's not quite sure where the missiles are. And the overly keen ensign at that station had nearly taken out half the docking portal trying out the guns.

"Best we meet them on their ship. Don't want them knowing our strength, numbers, that sort of thing."

Upson looks around the bridge. Some of the seats still have the plastic covers on.

"We definitely don't want that, Sir."

The _Columbus_ is new. Very new. Unfortunately, so are the crew. Miranda changed a lot of things. The majority of the elite were wiped out. Not just the men, but the ships. So - older ships were taken out and dusted off. Some cadets got accelerated through their training to make up numbers. Men who lived in dark bunkers, and had more degrees than they ever had girlfriends, were thrust out into the light and promoted on account of their qualifications. And other men, looking forward to nothing more exacting than a retirement in which to play golf, suddenly found themselves in charge of it all.

"You'd best take your sidearm, Upson."

"I didn't join the military to shoot at people!"

Treutlen stares at him. Upson flushes.

"Scholarship to L.I.T." He mumbles.

"Just...take your gun, Upson. We don't want trouble, but we must be prepared to meet it if it comes." The determined stance and uplifted chin would look better on a taller man. And a firmer chin.

0000

River gives a sudden snort of laughter.

"Got to tread carefully. Don't want any fuss." Her eyes go wide, and she grins. "Not supposed to be here."

"They got themselves lost?"

"Sheep searching for a lost lamb."

"So we just give them their ship and go?"

"If they let us. Folks like that ain't gonna be happy we clapped eyes on it." Zoe says darkly.

"They got no reason to arrest us." Tyler is indignant. Turns to his uncle. "Free Port Law says."

"Free Port...gorram." Jayne waves his hands, trying to think. "Kid's right. Law says..."

"Law of the Free Port of Marietta states that we got a right to salvage over anythin' within the Scrap Belt. Law was ratified by Parliament in 2475 an' amended in 2512." Tyler parrots dutifully. "Alliance lets us have stuff, long as we patch up anythin' of theirs fetches up."

"How come you don't know that?" Mal demands of his merc.

"'Cos I never finished school." Jayne snaps back.

"Got good marks in Civics." Tyler mumbles. "Some of the history was kinda interestin'."

Ilargia is bent over the screen, fingers moving across the keys nearly as fast as River. A very scary and official-looking screen, all heraldic stars and wreaths and dragons, pops up. But before anyone can get disturbed, she's through that, and the screen fills with text.

"One thing they never pulled, oddly enough, was my University Library clearance." She grins. "All students have access to Londinium's Central Library. Every legal document of the Alliance is stored there...including the Deadwood Settlement and the Accords of Marietta..."

"How does this help with that?" 'That' being the skyscraper parked overhead.

"They can't arrest us for having that thing on board. As long as we can convince them that we are a legitimate salvage vessel out of Deadwood."

Mal scans the page under her pointing finger. The kid is dead on. But then, one of the original signatories of the Settlement was a Jasper Cobb. The commemorative picture is very clear. He looks at Jayne and Tyler, crowded shoulder to shoulder and making the bridge a mite crowded.

"I think we got two good reasons to convince 'em right there."

"What about us, Captain?" Simon asks. Everyone but Tyler knows what he means. One retinal scan, and they are all sunk. Atmosphere goes tense again.

"We got no place to hide them."

"So we hide them in plain sight." Ilargia's thought makes River grin. "Simon, you go and get grubbied up." She smirks. "Shirt off and a little grease on the muscles. Jayne, you and Ty get him kitted out like an Arcie."

Simon chokes faintly, but starts to unbutton his shirt.

"They see that medical bay, they're going be expecting a doctor..." Zoe warns. Mal gives a sudden grin.

"Reckon I can provide 'em with one." Shrugs off his coat. "Gonna need me something fun to wear."

"I got just the thing." Zoe sprints, and a few minutes later, comes back with one of Wash's shirts. Catches Mal's look. "He'd have laughed his ass off, sir."

Tyler stands, confused. Mal explains.

"See, it's best these folks don't know who exactly we are. Doc and his sister are by way of being in demand by some folks they don't want to be seeing anytime soon. So we're playing...'Find the Lady' with 'em."

A frown, then a sudden clearing of expression into a grin, and Tyler shrugs his jacket off, puts it round River's shoulders. Mal eyes her.

"You find yourself a nook to hide in. Reckon you can keep one step ahead of anyone looking for you."

Crew scatter. Zoe takes the controls, looks at Mal, who settles his shirt front.

"Reckon this will work, sir?"

"These men, they might seem amusing, but there ain't nothing funny 'bout what'll happen, they reckon on who we got here. Mayhap they done forgotten, the Cortex going quiet an' all, but I wouldn't bet cashy money on it." Mal hitches a grin, and there is the beginning of a gleam in his eye. "How do I look?"

"That was a real ugly shirt on Wash. It don't look any better on you." Zoe sighs. Captain has got the mood to play on him. "Maybe they'll just laugh themselves to death."

"Here's hoping nobody gets dead." A clang and a thump as they dock. Mal gives an elaborate bow. "Reckon that's your cue, Captain Washburne."

"Oh, I see. My ship, my fault..."

"But you got that air of command down so well."

"Learnt all I know from you, sir. Mainly what not to do."

0000

Captain Treutlen and his First Officer Upson step cautiously onto the deck. They eye the crew. It hardly looks like an assembly of hardened criminals. One woman is actually wearing an apron. The Captain is the toughest looking one there, dark-skinned and stony faced.

Treutlen is a plump little man, with the bossy self-importance that often attends short men. Frowning doesn't suit him; it's a kindly face. And despite the look of severity that he is trying to maintain, there is clear relief when he sights the ship.

Upson pulls at the collar of his uniform. He's paler and younger, with slightly beady eyes and rather more forehead than he is comfortable with. He would be far happier to be back in his nice air-conditioned lab, surrounded by his computers. Zoe, feeling his gaze, turns a steely look in his direction, and Upson's adam's apple does a mad little dance. In his deepest secret thoughts, he dreams of being shouted at by officers like Captain Washburne.

The cadre of troops pointing guns round them don't look any older than Tyler. Makes 'em rather more dangerous than seasoned veterans, if only 'cos they might blow their own feet off with nerves. Same worrisome thought has occurred to Treutlen, since he shoos them back like chickens.

"Captain, you have some property of ours..."

"We got some troublesome salvage, right enough."

There indeed is the _Daedalus_. Canted onto the deck, and clearly the worse for wear, but mostly intact, sitting in the midst of a disturbing array of cutting equipment and scrap metal panels. A couple of crew members are moving about it, and one fires up a cutting torch with a fine degree of unconcern. Upson moves so fast, he doesn't seem to touch the intervening deck.

"Don'tcutthat!"

The man flips up the face-plate of the mask, wipes a hand across his already grimed face.

"Just doing what I'm told, mister." Shrugs, jerks a thumb. "He tells me what to take out and what to leave."

Upson turns round. Finds himself looking up. There is no power in the 'verse can make Jayne look anything other than big and scary. Upson takes an involuntary step backwards.

"Your...student just nearly put a torch through a fuel line."

"He's still learnin'." Jayne shrugs. Squints at the ship critically. "We reckon on taking this back, strip out the guns, amp up the engines, and it'll make a nice little runabout for some fancy rich kid."

Upson strangles quietly. A million credit military-spec craft, with go-faster stripes. He wants to snatch the cutting-torch away from this grubby barbarian. Only he didn't do so well in unarmed combat, and this one is big.

"Engine's need more'n an amp-up. Reckon they're Capissen clones." says a voice at ankle level, and a small pair of boots appear, followed by their owner. She's very pretty, even under the engine grease, and she gives a sunny smile. "No wonder it went bouncing off a rock."

A slightly smaller version of the huge and horrible one is eyeballing some of the cadre, fingering his gun. They gaggle together nervously, suddenly confronted by a real spacer.

"Tyler, stop scaring them kids." Jayne grins, lopes over. This is far from reassuring. Treutlen, who, despite a lack of combat experience, has a deal of common sense, holds up his hands.

"Gentlemen, at ease." Looks from the boy to the man and back again. "Your...son?"

"My nephew. His first trip out to the Belt." Another far from reassuring grin. "You got newbies, too, by the looks."

"Indeed..." Treutlen pulls himself together. "Captain, I would like to formally request that you hand back the rightful property of the Research and Development Department of the Military Council of the Anglo-Sino Alliance of Planets."

"All that without breathin'." Jayne murmurs admiringly. Zoe nods, as if considering it.

"I figure we got somethin' on board we ain't gonna be able to shift without a deal of trouble, so if you want it back, you go right ahead."

"We really got to give it back?" Tyler pouts. "There's mebbe fifty credits of prime scrap in those bent fins."

Upson makes a sad little noise in his throat. Treutlen resists the urge to tread on his foot. They are here to uphold the image of the Alliance.

"And was this craft...empty when you came across it?"

"No. We put the body in our sickbay."

"You have medical facilities aboard?"

"Just basic." Zoe looks past him, and a frown flickers across her face. "Real basic."

It's the shirt Treutlen notices first. It's hard not to. After the sober grey and dark purple of the service, the thing is a walking abomination. Fighting the urge to shade his eyes, he squints at the man wearing it.

"You...examined the body?"

"'Course I examined the body. Man was dead. Crashed his ship into a rock." Man gives a sloppy, wide smile and leans in. "Hadta put him in a box quick. Startin' to smell, an' it was scarin' the ladies."

Treutlen leans back. A blast of minty mouthwash does not disguise cheap aftershave and a merest suspicion of cheaper whisky. There are more than a few like him in the Service - men who had seen more than they ever needed to of man's inhumanity to man in combat, and crawled into a bottle between times to forget...Some of them crawl out again. Some of them get stuck in the neck. Thought shows on his face.

"Encourages my crew to be careful." The Captain gives him a look. "There's some folk as don't like crewing for a woman, still. Had to take what I could get. But I'm thinking I'll tip his sorry ass out when we get back dirtside." Shrugs. "Got a fine hospital back on Deadwood. Only needed someone as can set bones in a hurry."

"Aw, Cap'n, you know you couldn't do without me." Doctor smirks.

Treutlen steps back. Look the Captain gives the doctor, he reckons on the man being out of the airlock sooner.

They are interrupted by another crew member clattering down the stairs. This girl has the flat-footed stomp of a teenager (Treutlen has two at home) and she slouches in front of him in a way that reminds him of his eldest. Dark hair up in two little buns, and fantastically painted eyes, she looks like one of those cartoon commercials, all big boots and tiny skirt.

"Hey, Pa..."

Mal strangles for a moment (which is probably the most convincing thing he could do.)

"Told you to stay out of the way."

"Oh, these nice men ain't gonna hurt us." She scoffs at him, smiles up at Treutlen. He, unaware that the most dangerous thing on the ship is snapping gum at him, smiles back.

"Indeed not, young lady."

Girl shrugs in the overlarge leather jacket she's wearing. Rolls her eyes.

"My Pa is such a worrier. I'm outta his sight for more'n five minutes, he's frettin' that I'm up to somethin'." Swaps her gum round. The accent is pure Shadow. "Anyhow, Aunt Gia says she's fixed tea if anyone would care for a cup."

0000

It's hard to think about arresting somebody when they are offering you a biscuit. Treutlen shifts on his chair, eyes the bright little kitchen. After the sleek, antiseptic lines of the _Columbus_, the homely little ship is a shock to the eyes. (Though a pleasanter one than that shirt. Shudders and looks away.) It is difficult to equate the idea of criminality with stencilled walls and homemade cakes. The accent is disconcerting, too; the ship's cook may look like any other civilian out here, but the voice is pure home.

Of a long list of the things Zoe Washburne never thought she'd be doing, sitting down to a cup of tea with an Alliance Captain wouldn't even have made the list of most unlikely. But she and Captain Treutlen are being very polite to one another, and finding common cause in the bemoaning of the idiocy of superiors and the even greater idiocy under one's command. A small, harassed figure, who probably had more hair and less lines a year past, this man is so far out of his depth, he can't even see the surface. And he knows it. Reading between the lines, Alliance forces are spread far too far and too thin, and he's got a crew greener than spring corn.

"...sent me out, and expect me to produce results. It all comes down to the profit margins for the shareholders."

"Still the same old concerns, I understand?" Ilargia pours another cup. "I do recall the difficulty with the dividends after that attempted revival of Lassiter technology."

Mal and Zoe keep quiet and let her run the conversation. She has taken half-heard scraps of rumour, and presents them with an air of complicit authority. It's an effective ploy; people rush to fill in the gaps with their own knowledge.

Ilargia's best weapon is the truth. Not all of it. Just enough. An accent straight out of Londinium, a few throwaway lines about government service, a lack of explanation for the presence of same on the ship, and folks leap to all the wrong conclusions very quickly. This is covert country out here. Beyond the sure reach of Alliance law, where you walk softly, and carry a very big stick indeed.

Treutlen, lulled by the accent of home, and a mouthful of the first real cookie he's had in months, starts to relax. They had told him that out on the Rim was a hard, harsh place, full of criminals and pirates. But these just seem like really nice people. Almost civilised. And after all, what kind of criminals would take their children along on a job?

0000

Upson is all but petting the little ship, urging it onto a makeshift cradle to transport it back. This is clearly his baby. Kaylee approves.

"Once Parliament tendered out the research, the big industrial and commercial concerns take the cream." Upson sighs. "I'd really like to work for one of the big corporations. Someone like Blue Sun. Unlimited budget."

"And no public accountability. Until it all goes Miranda on you." The grimy young man has very cold blue eyes.

Upson looks discomfited.

"I didn't mean..."

"Oh, don't mind him." The sunny little engineer tightens a last strap. "There, that oughta hold it for you. Now, what kind of engines you run on the great big ship of yours?"

0000

A small, odd moment of silence as the two Cobb men carry a stretcher into the bay. It's Tyler who steps forward. Lays a hand on the bodybag, swallows hard.

"We was takin' him back to bury him, but if you know his kin, then it's right you take him home."

Commander Treutlen opens his mouth, shuts it again. The patent sincerity on the boy's face stops him.

Treutlen looks at the crew. The thought of arresting any of this little family is ridiculous; they aren't criminals, just poor people who stumbled across something they shouldn't. Even if they knew what they were carrying, who would they tell?

Upson coughs gently, murmurs,

"Are you suggesting that we just thank them and send them on their way, sir?"

"That would be a good move, Upson. They have after all merely retrieved a lost pilot for us." A significant move of eyebrows.

Zoe finds herself shaking hands with a very relieved and genial little man.

"Oh...yes, indeed. Well," The smile is unforced, "We'll let you be on your way. Our grateful thanks for your assistance."

0000

The door shuts. They hold their breath, as the _Columbus _disengages. Kaylee breaks the silence with a stifled giggle, and then they are all laughing fit to burst, with relief and the sheer silliness of it.

Mal grins.

"Ott's gonna be too busy avoidin' the _Columbus_ to be chasin' us." Slaps Tyler's shoulder. "Good work there, Tyler."

"We got lucky." Zoe says. "They didn't want trouble. They'd been smarter or meaner, we'd be dead or in jail."

"But they weren't, and we ain't." Mal can't hide a spark of glee in his eyes. "Let's tell Bernoulli we got his crate."

"This mean I have to hand back command, sir?"

"You don't, I'm gonna wear this shirt at you 'til you do..."

0000

Treutlen sighs.

"If that drunken sawbones knows one end of a scalpel from another, I'd be surprised. He wouldn't know a cerebral induction coil if it fell on him."

"One of the cutters was all ready to put a slice right through the fuel feeds." Upson is still shaken, keeps petting the little ship. "Did something seem a little bit...odd to you, sir?"

"Upson, we are on the edge of space. People like that nice Mrs Cobb choose to come and live out here. Define odd."

"That ship. The crew...they were probably doing something illegal."

"Frankly, Upson, I wouldn't have cared if they were transporting bloody beagles. We have Project Daedalus back." Treutlen massages his eyes. "And I can send a message to Newmark's family, tell them what happened to their son."

He misses his girls. Seeing that scrappy little crew...they didn't have much, but you could see the family feeling. He couldn't imagine Abigail or Susie on the _Columbus._ They are safely back home...He smiles. When he has made the official recording for the Newmarks, he's going to make an unofficial one for his girls. They can roll their eyes over their foolish old father, but he's going to tell them that he loves them and misses them. The Black is a big place, and family is important.


	13. Chapter 13

An odd feeling of anti-climax on the ship. They are safe, unpursued and in possession of their prize, with a course set in for a rendez-vous off Beylix. Reaction takes them different ways. Kaylee is preventing Simon from getting clean and tidy again; he looks just fine to her, all greased up. Simon, against his better judgement, but amused, poses for a capture which will come back to haunt him some day, he fears.

Mal stomps onto the bridge, throws himself into his seat.

"Anything wrong , sir?"

"No, everything's shiny." Punches buttons savagely. "I just love falling over necking teenagers on my boat."

Ah. Zoe sits back. She's not going to say 'told you so'. Waits.

"Gorram, Zoe. Girl just looked at me, and said 'walk on by', like I ain't gonna care that she's bein'...mauled by one of Jayne's kin!" Bang, stab. "Well, we ain't keepin' him. Don't care how many of them big soft eyes she makes at me."

Mal's grinding his teeth. She can hear him. Little devil voice (sounds suspiciously like Wash) prods her to say,

"What does the Doc think on it?"

"Oh, she done told him to walk on by, too."

Course he's gonna worry about his li'l albatross. She ain't more than a bit of a girl, an' those Alliance _hun dan_ cutting her about an' all...needs someone as can take care of her ('cos someone that can leave a whole room of folks in bits needs that, truly.) He's the Captain, it's his job to worry, his job to protect her. Should be him telling her that everything was going to be fine, should be him...Mal's mind slams to a halt.

Don'tthinkthatdon'teverthinkthatgorramit

Mal is aware that the one of architects of their present safety has proved her worth over again. (And that they owe more than a little to the kid.) Turns to Zoe. There ain't many folks in the 'Verse got judgement he trusts above his own.

"What do we do now, Zoe?"

"I'm going to have a sleep." Shrugs, deliberately misunderstands him. "Eight hours to Beylix."

"Didn't mean that." Hand rests on the clipboard. They both look at it a beat.

"Guess you'll have to rely on her gentle and forgiving nature, Sir."

Mal closes his eyes.

"I'm humped, then."

But he heaves himself out of his chair, and takes a walk back to the kitchen.

"Reckon we need to talk."

"I think we do." Ilargia is sitting at the table. Mal looks at the calm face, steady gaze, and sighs.

"You gonna make me say it?"

"Oh, yes."

"Well, then..." Wipes a hand over his face, "I guess I'm sorry."

"And do you know what you're sorry for?"

"Don't go pushing me, woman." But they share a tired smile.

"Being in fear for your life can make a body tetchy."

Mal regards the get-out clause, then regretfully jettisons it.

"Had no call to go taking it out on other folks. We don't know each other so well, I'm thinking."

"Told you before, all you have to do is ask me."

"Yeah, but you was hiding a cargo of contraband in my ship at the time. You might forgive me being a bit twitched..." He sighs. "You ever gonna tell us why you really ran?"

"I did. I simply couldn't stand being where I was any longer." Mouth sets.

"More to it than that."

"There's always more to it than that." Eyes are a fortress. "There's no big tragedy, no big secret. I just don't think a failed marriage and a burnt out career are in any way comparable to what you people have been through. I lost things, not people." Softens a little. "Just...things I don't want to remember. But...don't doubt my intelligence, Captain."

"I don't ever do that. Conjure you know your way around the paperwork better'n me..."

"If you're looking for an administrator, Captain, we'll have to renegotiate my wages."

"You're gorram hard work, woman."

"But I make excellent bao."

"More to you that a light hand with dumplings, and we both know it." He can see why Treutlen was so confounded. She's so clearly from the Core. She ain't quite frontier tough, but she has some mighty odd skills for a woman born in the centre of the 'Verse. And she don't have that buttoned up way of thinking he reckons on Core folk having.

"It's not just me you need to...speak to."

Mal looks momentarily hunted.

"I ain't got time to be worrying over hurt feelings and the like, Gia. Got a whole boatload of folks to think on and steer through these times."

"I know it. But River and Ty...they're both young, and possibly a bit scared. Don't ask them to be machines, Captain. People don't work like that." Both of them think on the evidence of that, recently departed from the hold. "She's just stretching her wings a little. And Tyler is...safe."

Mal, confused, but somehow reassured, watches her walk down the corridor.

0000

Tyler is sitting on the steps, looking glum. His uncle stirs him with a boot.

"What you sulkin' for?"

"I want to do me some proper work, Uncle Jayne."

"Caught and cut that tin box up. That counts. An' you got yourself a girl to swagger at outta it."

Tyler hunches his shoulder against the playful teasing.

"Just I was expectin'...thought it was gonna be more than flying about and playing dress-up."

"You wanted bullets flyin', that it?" Jayne snorts. "Dumbass kid. Getting shot hurts." Hitches a sleeve, shows the ugly gash in his shoulder. "Doc dug a lump of lead outta me. Knows his work, 'cos I still got my arm, but a mite lower, and I'd be wiping my butt with air. An' you think what would happen, a ship that size starts shooting at us? We'd be nothin' but a heap of scrap in the Belt." Shakes his head. "No point doin' a job if you ain't alive to enjoy your pay."

"You did it. Left home and made your fortune."

"Fortune?" Jayne stares at him. "I jumped planet 'cos I was young and stupid, an' I bin too ashamed to come back, 'cos I done nothin' to be proud of with my life, you hear me? I killed and I stole and I got in with some real bad company. But I fell in with some decent folk, gave me a chance I din't deserve, an' then I met Larji. Woman like that deserves better'n some space trash, so I'm trying. But I ain't a good man, and I ain't a hero, an' you don't want my kind of life, 'cos it's hard and ugly and it don't last."

"I ain't afraid of dyin'." Tyler lies.

"You should be. Ain't nobody wants to die, 'less'n they're sick in the head."

Panic and bewilderment in both pairs of eyes.

"Don't go looking up to me, boy." Jayne says, softly. "I ain't worth it. You go admirin' folks, you look to the Captain."

"Ain't the Captain sends money home..."

"It's the Captain as decides on our jobs, Ty. His ship, his rules. I work for him, you understand." Sets his jaw. "We're takin' you back."

"I ain't going."

"You do as I tell you, boy. You ran off without a word to your Ma, and she'll be fretting herself sick about you."

Two scowls, the mirror image. Jayne has a sickening sense of history. Another young man, fists balled.

"...I'm goin', you hear me? I ain't stayin' on this rock, cutting ships for a few coin. I can make me more credits than you see in a month out there."

Time has scabbed over the memories, but now they are raw again.

0000

Somehow, all the women of _Serenity_ have gathered in the seating area. River has cleaned her fantastic eye make-up off, and is looking very young and shiny in consequence. Smiles shyly.

"Tyler is simple. No darkness to him." A slight and natural complacency. "Thinks I'm pretty."

"And you like him."

"Not Romeo and Juliet. Only want some fun." Guilt and worry. "Is this wrong?"

"No. All very natural. Just...don't, well, try not to hurt him, heart-wise, I mean."

"Kissin's fine." Kaylee grins. "Don't mean you got to marry him or nothin'."

"Try before you buy." Zoe contributes. River goes even more pink, but the laughter is kind.

Not the kind of thing Zoe is used to. Plenty of barrack room backchat, one of the boys. But sitting with a bunch of women...she has little in common with them. But how much do they have in common with each other? Gia, smart and sensible, born worlds away from the Black, but choosing to live on a ship, with all its attendant discomfort and privation, for love of something different and dangerous. Kaylee takes this heap of parts and makes it fly, her freedom from a poor and dusty world. And then there is River. Little enigma, but not looking remotely dangerous at the moment, skinny little girl, as Kaylee braids her hair. But when she flies...Zoe does not resent River for herself, but as she sits in Wash's chair (and it will always be Wash's chair) there is sometimes a quality in the easy way she reaches for switches, turns her head with a grin, that disquiets. Zoe does not believe in ghosts. Looks again. Nothing more normal for two teens than to find themselves a dark corner to go necking in. Slight smile curves her mouth - nothing more normal for any folk. Her ears have caught the heavy tread of boots. The big merc can be soundless when he wants to be, but most of the time he announces his presence to the world by stamping on the deck like it offends him.

The boots retreat. Jayne ain't afraid of much, but stepping into a room full of gossipin' women is more than any man should have to deal on. Grumbles his way up onto the bridge. Mal is scowling at the stars.

"We'll be taking the crate to a rendez-vous off Beylix." Looks at Jayne. "After that, we got a small window to take a side-trip. Got more than one lot of goods on board needs to be taken to its rightful owner."

"Ain't that the truth." Hunches his shoulders. "He done a good job, though."

"Reckon he'll stay?"

"Dunno." Jayne looks sidelong. "Ain't a deal of work back home. Reckon he's got the grit to make it out here."

"We can't be keeping him on board. Don't have the room. 'Sides, you don't want to be looking over your shoulder every job we do."

"I remember my sister changing his gorram diapers, Mal. An' now he's taking on the 'Verse with a .38 Eriksen."

"Can't live his life for him, Jayne."

"I know it." The big man sighs. "Just...don't want him livin' mine, is all."

"He's made himself a choice."

"Ain't you is gonna hafta tell his ma." Slumped shoulders. "Gorramit, Mal, spent years kicking about the 'Verse, gettin' myself shot at so as the folks back home din't have to go worryin' themselves about where their next paycheck was coming from. Now the fool kid thinks I'm some kind of hero, and when he gets himself peppered with shot, it's gonna be my fault. An' I won't ever be able to go back and face 'em after that."

When Mal first met Jayne, it wasn't what you might call an auspicious meeting. Fact is, he was the wrong end of a shotgun, and being made aware that his cunning avoidance of all and sundry didn't include the large man with the hunter's eyes in front of him. Took the big man on to save his skin, but he recognised his talents from the get go. He's one of the biggest, meanest, dirtiest fighters Mal has ever met, a brawler, a tracker, a deadshot with most any weapon you give him. Not too bright, and not too honest, but not the dimwitted scumbag he'd seemed at first meeting. Deadwood had been a real surprise. But you could never tell what would drive a man.

"Jayne, we both know you ain't a hero. But you got one thing as would keep you on any crew." Mal starts to grin. "Ain't any Captain gonna let the best cook this side of Londinium go waltzing off."

Jayne stares at him for one dangerous moment. Then he laughs.

"You gorram...keep your thieving hands off my wife."

"Wouldn't dare go touchin'. More scared of her than I am of you."

"She don't want to stay on Deadwood any more than I do." Jayne says, a small burst of confidence. "It...ain't home no more, Mal." Gestures awkwardly, takes in the stars, the ship. "Been out here a long time, don't know as I could ever get used to one sky again."

They both look at the stars, remembering in their own way.

A gangling youth, a head taller than half the men round him, shouldering up a ramp into a dark cargo bay. Had a hammock stretched out by the engine-room, and those engines weren't half as quiet and clean as li'l Kaylee keeps _Serenity_. And the grub weren't nothin' special either. Needed a good shot of whisky to keep it down. It ain't what he wants for Ty.

A young man, face tight with purpose, new boots pinching and the squeak of new leather from the coat over his shoulders, presenting his papers to an avuncular officer. Taking one last look at the prairies he always thought he'd come back to, one day, then marching up the ramp with the indomitable assurance of the young. Didn't take long to knock the youth out of him, not once the dying started. He sighs.

"Reckon we can find the time to see if anyone has a bunk spare."

Jayne nods, grateful. He wouldn't ever ask outright for a favour; not his way. But...he's grown to trust Mal. Still ain't ever gonna call him 'sir', mind.


	14. Chapter 14

Simon's got the grease off himself, but he wears his shirt open at the neck. Has a new respect now for the big man's strength; took all his to hold that cutter, let alone wield it for hours. Picks up a jar, looks at it without really seeing it. Sighs, and puts it down again.

"What you frettin' over?" Kaylee peers round the door at him. At the sight of her bright smile, not even Simon can stay glum. He manages a smile back.

"What am I usually fretting over?"

Kaylee's smile wavers a fraction, and she gets a determined look in her eye.

"Heard you yelling at River some. Guess it was about Tyler."

"It was."

"Why?"

"I..." Simon pauses. "She's my sister. I don't want her being..."

"Pawed about by some lout from the Rim? 'Cos that ain't fair. Tyler's a sweetheart."

Simon winces.

"I was going to say hurt."

Kaylee scoffs.

"All she's done is kiss the boy, Simon. She's growing up."

"I guess...that's just harder to accept than anything else. She needed me for so long, and now..."

"She's always going to need her big brother to love her." Kaylee winds her arms round his neck. "Just...she needs other folk to love her too."

"So I suppose I need to go and borrow a shotgun from Jayne, then?"

"Tyler won't hurt her none."

"He said as much." Simon begins to smile, as he remembers. "Came and apologised for kissing her without asking."

"Hah." Kaylee squeaks indignantly. "Don't reckon a body needs anyone's permission to go kissing folks."

"Really?" Simon grins. "Well, then, Miss Frye..."

0000

Since there isn't a thing you can keep from River, Mal is not surprised to find her hunched in the pilot's chair, and Not Talking to him.

"We got no space on this boat for anything ain't useful. You ain't keepin' him, River."

"Not a puppy." Sticks her lower lip out. "Could be useful."

"As what?"

"Kept Inara around for you." She didn't mean to say that. Mal's expression darkens, and she feels the rage off him. Decides discretion is the better part of valour and makes a huffy (and hasty) exit.

That's a low blow. And one he weren't expecting from that quarter.

0000

Zoe is watching Ilargia make bao. It's her way of showing Mal he's forgiven, for the time being.

The other side of the kitchen, Tyler is using the back of a spoon, covertly checking to see whether any stubble has come through.

"We have to take him back, don't we?"

"Oh, yeah. 'Verse ain't quite ready for two Cobbs." Zoe shakes her head. "Reckon Jayne was ever like that?"

"According to his folks, that's just a younger version."

"Still ain't sure how something that's just a smaller version of Jayne can be kinda...sweet."

"He's Jayne without the hard shell." Ilargia punches some dough with unnecessary force. "I know I've never known him any other way, but Jayne can be sweet, too."

Zoe has a memory. Coming off the night watch, and into the kitchen. And Jayne, shirtless, padding quietly about, a delicate little tea bowl half-hidden in his hand, held careful as eggshell. Since Jayne don't drink anything without a proof rating, she'd grinned, and caught out, the big merc had given a half-shamed grin back, and simply said, "If you're gonna wake the cook, best do it careful like."

'Sweet' still ain't a description that sits well.

"You changed him." Beat. "He changed for you, I should say."

"I'm sorry." Ilargia doesn't look at her.

"For having a life?" Zoe puts her cup down. "'Verse keeps on goin', even when we lose folk. I was a soldier before I was a wife. An' my hurting shouldn't keep anyone from living." Her mouth curves up, a rich, full smile. "Wash would have laughed his ass off to see Jayne in love."

Ilargia is very sorry that she never got to meet the man. He's left a void within the ship greater than the Captain's painted lady, or Jayne's preacher friend.

0000

When Jayne catches up with Tyler, the kid is ready to go round again. Jayne holds down the urge to cuff sense into him - after all, din't work on him.

"I don't want you ending up dead in some ditch, ass end of the 'Verse and your kin in bits 'cos they don't know what happened to you, Ty." Jayne swallows. "I done it to my Ma, and it ain't right."

Ty summons up a cocky grin.

"Ain't gonna get dead, Uncle Jayne. M'a Cobb - we're harder to kill'n roaches."

"Gorram, boy..."

"Well, I ain't staying on that rock..."

"Ain't asking you to." That stops Ty dead. "Reckon a man's got a right to make his own way. But...he don't want to be too proud to go taking help. Cap'n'll put word out - you ain't shipping out in some rusty space-sieve."

Ty's face falls.

"But...I wanna stay with you. Captain said I did a good job."

"This ain't storybooks, Ty. We got a crew, an' got our places. 'Sides," Jayne shakes his head, "You done made a move on the Cap'n's girl, and that ain't ever healthy for a career."

Tyler's eyes go wide.

"Captain's girl? But he's..." About to say 'old', he stops himself in time. Deflates a little. "Oh."

"Gets the pick, see? Now, you go back an' say a proper goodbye to folks, sign on as regular crew someplace, and I reckon there's girls back on Deadwood would be real keen to meet a spacer..."

"They ain't River, though."

"Well, there ain't many like Li'l Wing." Claps Tyler on the shoulder, but it ain't unkind. "Now, you done real good out there, boy. Reckon we've earned ourselves a beer when we get back dirtside."

Tyler brightens.

"We're goin' to the Cat?"

"You're payin', too."

"Aww, Uncle Jayne..."

0000

They bury the goods under the beacon on Beylix, dig up the box of credits at the pre-arranged spot. Mal takes Tyler and Jayne to do the digging, tells himself it's good to keep the boy under his eye, nothing to do with keeping him out of the way of his pilot.

Fact is, there seem to be an awful lot of little jobs that keep Jayne and Tyler busy, until they land back on Deadwood.

0000

Jayne ain't ready for his worlds to go colliding again. One thing his wife seeing baby pictures, but he ain't ever gonna let Mal or the Doc within talking distance of his Ma.

"We can go out to eat again." River almost skips. "More of those dian xin."

Little twist in Mal. That's one of the bright and secret moments in his mind, a quiet courtyard and a sweet smile.

"Reckon we could, at that." Zoe pats her pocket. "Putnam's Hotel does some mighty fine steak."

"Sounds real good..."

"We have to take Tyler home." Ilargia folds her arms.

"Gorramit, woman..."

The crew watch, amused. Only one thing in the 'Verse can make Jayne back down, and that's the woman squaring up to him. Ilargia is firm; she is not having her new

family blame her for leading any of the menfolk astray.

0000

Mal pays Tyler his wages, and the boy's air of nonchalance nearly comes off; only the wide eyes betray him. And his intention to just shake hands with the crew gets scuppered by Kaylee's hug.

Shakes hands with Mal, and if there is an edge to their eyeballing, nobody pays it too much mind.

"I put the word out. There's a ship, the _Cosmos Mariner, _docking in two, three days. Captain Mercer is an old acquaintance of mine..."

"Moonshine Mercer?" Jayne asks Zoe, quiet-like. "Mal's bootcamp buddy as used to brew that gorram stumpwater?"

"The same." Zoe raises her eyebrows. "They're about as legal as you can get in these parts. Nobody's gonna be shooting at your boy."

"I ain't worried." Jayne lies. But he settles some. Mercer is a good man.

If River and Tyler have an emotional parting, nobody sees it. Any of the menfolk lacking in sensitivity are hauled away firmly.

0000

Tyler is rather subdued when they leave the ship, doesn't look back, with a very determined air of bravery. Jayne shakes his shoulder.

"You're gonna be fine, boy."

"Reckon so." Ty lifts his chin. "Kinda nice to be home. Even if I ain't staying long." Turns and stops as they pass the Store. "Reckon I should take Ma something."

"We'll have a look." Ilargia gives Jayne a look. "You best go ahead, tell Jolene we're coming."

Jayne sighs. This ain't gonna be fun. But caught between his wife and his sister, a man has no chance of peace or survival.

Jolene doesn't live in the best part of town. Under the shadow of the hangars, south end of the shipyard, the streets are narrower, and like most places where a lot of folk have to live, they've built up rather than out. It lacks the clean peace of the Cobb's home street - nobody has emptied the garbage here for a while, and some of the brownstone blocks look tired - but there is a smell of frying food, clean laundry hanging from the balconies, and a hum that indicates a thriving neighbourhood.

Jayne looks up at the house frontage. Ty reckons they'll catch Jolene between her day job and her evening shift at the chop-house. That had touched him some - his sister getting in from an early shift cleaning, to get breakfast, and then getting changed to go work on her feet all day in the laundry, afore heading out again. Wages they just gave Tyler amount to maybe a couple week's earnings for her. If they can get the kid on a decent scow, then life will get better. He sighs. If he'd had any doubt 'bout stayin', even if Larji had been keen, that would top it. Despite what the Preacher had to say on it, when you come from a poor planet, then crime does pay. It's about the only thing as does.

Four flights of stairs later, he pauses in front of the door. Taught his little sis to take care of herself, and she's got a mean right hook. Still, he can't go standing in the hall all evening. First knock of his fist near goes through the thin board.

0000

"Jayne!" Her eyes go past him, frantic.

"He's shopping."

"Shopping?!"

"Got hisself paid, wanted to buy you something nice."

Jayne reckons he's gonna get rust, number of women have snivelled on him lately. But after a minute or so, Jolene's fist smacks him in the shoulder.

"...I figured what he'd done, soon enough. Now, why din't you bring him right back home?"

"Fuel." Jayne says simply. "Hadta keep moving to get paid to get some more."

"Guess I was just waiting to lose him." Wipes her nose and eyes.

"You ain't lost him. Kid reckons on it being his turn to take care of you, Jo." Jayne looks around. Small apartment is scrupulously clean, spartan and functional, a picture over the mantel a bright, pathetic show of colour. She's thin and tired, his sister, smudges under eyes that have lost the brightness of their blue. "Gorramit, sis, why'd you have to be so proud?"

"'Cos I ain't having folks say that I can't take care of my boy."

"Ma'd have a blue fit if she knew..."

"You ain't telling Ma!"

Jayne knows his sis would rather go cutting her tongue out than ask for help, 'specially with Em ready to start looking down her nose - ain't nobody so respectable as the Websters. Only Mattie and Em ever finished school - Jo got Ty 'stead of a school cert, and Jayne, well, he was cutting plate, running with the Arcies. But it's an old war, one with its roots in the nursery. Jolene sighs.

"Can't solve this by flying back and throwing credits at it."

"All I got, Jo." Her big brother looks at her with a steady gaze. This ain't the roughneck gunhand no more; something's changed in him. "Never had the chance...never took the time to get myself an education. There ain't the work here, less'n you got brains or blood to get you in. Couldn't do no good, staying here. An' you can't pretend I was any loss to you..."

"Then you're a gorram idiot. I remember Ma cried for a week solid."

"She cried plenty afore I went, too. Me an' Pa clashing like steam hammers..."

"That's 'cos you're like as two peas. Always gotta be in charge of takin' care of folks."

Jayne lifts a shoulder, scowls unconvincingly.

"Had my fill of taking care of the small fry."

Learnt it from his Pa. You do what you can for your kin. An' if what you do means you gotta be away from them to provide, then you do it. Pa weren't around much when he was growing, but that was 'cos he was working all shifts. What with Ma sick, an' little Emmie-Lou in her plastic box, all tubes...(There's reasons Jayne don't like hospitals - too many bad memories.)

"I know it." Her mouth trembles. "Gorramit, I tried so hard to get him raised right."

"You raised him right, Jo-jo. That's a fine young man you got." Jayne grins crookedly. "Hell, I want him off my ship afore the Cap'n gives him my job."

"Wanted more for him than..." She bites it off. Jayne's grin slips a little.

"Yeah, well, 'Verse don't work like that. Them as got gets more, rest of us have to scrabble for what we can. I brung him back, but he ain't gonna stay. Reckons he's a man now, and he's gonna prove it somehow." Sighs. "Best get him settled on a good ship, afore he takes off and gets into the same kinda mess I did."

"You done okay for yourself now."

"Met some folks in the last year or two gave me a turnaround, sis. I weren't good company to be keeping before."

"Ma reckoned you just needed a good woman to go sorting you out."

Jayne thinks on it. Gia wouldn't have looked at the dirty gunhand Mal had taken on board on Caliban. A mean, untrustworthy piece of go se, as would sell out anyone soon as breathing, or shoot 'em sooner.

"I hadn't got my head straight, wouldn't have met me a good woman, Jo."

The 'good woman' chooses this moment to knock on the door.

Tyler loses his bag of groceries. Ilargia and Jayne scramble to pick up the tins and packets. Ilargia looks to where Jolene is alternatively kissing and slapping her errant son.

"He's going to be just fine, Jayne."

"Reckon so." Jayne lifts his chin. "He's my blood."

Jolene wipes her eyes, and hospitality surfaces.

"What must you think...?"

Ilargia pulls a bottle out of her own grocery bag.

"I thought that we would sit down with a drink, and have the men cook us supper."

"Now, that is a novel idea." Jolene grins. "Been a long time since you cooked me something, Jayne."

"I got better." Jayne is defensive. "Can do more than porridge an' stew, now."

"When he had to put food on the table, then..."

"He cooked it." She remembers. A gangly thirteen year old, already growing into his father's old shirt, ladling out porridge, yelling at Mattie to get out of bed and get his gorram pants on for school. "Spent a lot of time taking care of us smaller folks."

"Still does." Ilargia hands her a glass, and they sit and watch the two large figures elbowing each other at the range.

0000

Seems odd to be going back to the ship without a large shadow on his heels. Mal is waiting on the ramp, counting his crew aboard.

"Admit it, you're gonna miss the little tyke."

"Won't miss mindin' my mouth the whole time." He grins reluctantly. "Reckon we was ever that green, Mal?"

"Oh, yeah." Looks sideways. "Made you feel old, too, huh?"

"Oh, yeah." Jayne flexes his shoulders. "But I got myself a cure for that, right enough."

0000

Ilargia rolls over, and pulls something out from the small of her back.

"I never did open that present your mother gave...aagh."

"What?" Jayne peers into the box. "Aagh."

Both Cobbs regard the offering with fear. There is a hat. But it is tiny. And there is a matching pair of bootees, and a coat.

Jayne swallows. "I ain't ever thought you was keen..."

"You would be so very right." She puts the box down hastily. Then she looks at him, stricken, "I...are you?"

"No." He sags with relief.

She laughs.

"Jayne, darling, I love your family, but I am so very glad we don't live on the same planet."

"You an' me both, _mi tao._"

0000

Mal peers into the kitchen. River is stirring a pan of something.

"Smells better than the last time." She says, and smiles. Mal relaxes a little; maybe she's forgiven him. Then he frowns.

"Where's my cook?"

"Don't want to know." She gives him a 'dummy' look.

"Oh, for..." Mal sits at the table, head in hands. "They ain't natural."

"Very natural." River reproves him, "Don't sit down, need plates...been playing grown-ups for days, want to play themselves again."

Ilargia comes scurrying into the kitchen, rather flushed and trying to put up her hair.

"River, I...oh, evening, Captain."

"Can you do your shirt up?" Mal closes his eyes. "Not that it ain't a pretty view, but Jayne will kill me, he catches me lookin'."

Jayne himself lounges in, curls a protective arm around his wife. Seems to be a spot under her ear could do with a nuzzle, so he does. River sidesteps them, puts the pot on the table.

The Cobbs are themselves again, released from the responsibility of being surrogate parents.

River looks at Mal, rolls her eyes.

"Fireworks." She says.

Mal reaches down the plates for River.

"We did the job, we got paid, an' we're still flying." And I ain't got a pimply-faced youth underfoot no more. He doesn't stuff that thought back fast enough.

"Didn't have pimples." River glares. "Just razor rash. And hormones." She adds, thoughtfully.

Mal, well aware of Tyler's hormones, scowls. Looks sideways at River. She don't look as upset as he might expect. Then, he ain't ever been too good with girls...

Simon looks at his sister. There is a touch of colour at eyes and lips which is not entirely natural. Her hair is loosely swept back, and clipped up. Not a little girl any more. He folds his arms.

"So...are you going to drag back every unsuitable male in the quadrant for me to disapprove of?"

She laughs back at him.

"Probably."

"Well, I guess this means that I do have to go and borrow that shotgun from Jayne, then."

He worries for her, but it is the simple, human worry of a brother, no longer the life-tearing panic of before. She's healing, taking steps into the adult world.

She sighs, then brightens.

"Perhaps I can find someone at the Space bazaar."

Mal's immediate thought is that they ain't going near the place ever again.

"Could find yourself with someone like Petchko."

"Kick him through a table." She sniffs contemptuously. "Anyway, I've decided. Only going to date officers."

Kaylee hoots with laughter, and both Mal and Simon choke on their dinner.

_Serenity_ sails on through the Black.

A/N ; this was supposed to be a short character piece, and it wandered rather. There are some ideas seeded in here that I'm going to expand on. But I need to get it finished, because the other ideas are stacking up and beginning to make my head hurt.

Coming soon; a cracktastic crossover, some disturbing short stories and quite possibly Jayne on Londinium. After all, how bad could it be?...


End file.
